


M for Murder

by Dramione84



Series: M for Murder [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Muggle-born, Murder, Mystery, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:09:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 35,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione84/pseuds/Dramione84
Summary: M for Murder *Nominated for Best Crime/Mystery Fic and Best Draco Characterization #IsItHotInHere16* *RUNNER UP for Best Crime/Myster Fic #IsItHotInHere16*A unique murder case causes Head Auror Harry Potter to pair Hit Wizard Draco Malfoy with top auror Hermione Granger and she is NOT happy about it.





	1. Chapter 1

He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the migraine building behind his eyes. His wife had warned him this would be the reaction and deep down he had known she was right but he had hoped that common sense would prevail and she would see that he wouldn't pair her up with someone he didn't trust or someone he thought would hinder the case. There was no denying he was a top Hit Wizard and she was his best researcher. She was equally great in the field but he knew her preference would always be for getting to the bottom of a mystery while sequestered amongst the volumes whether it was in the Ministry or her personal library in her town house overlooking Richmond Park.

She continued her tirade, gesturing wildly at the other side of his desk and he peered over her shoulder catching the eye of the tall blonde man, stood resolutely against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, the amusement clear on his face. He hadn't been happy about the pairing either, but his grievances had been aired in a less…..animated way.

She hadn't actually noticed the blonde as she threw the door to her best friend's office wide open when she arrived to register her response to the departmental memo she had received 10 minutes ago. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes dark and her temper flaring, she hadn't actually given the Head Auror a moment to respond in her now 11 minute long speech.

"Well?" she cried and he was momentarily aware that she had seemingly finished and he hadn't been listening for about the last 9 minutes of her ranting.

"How can you expect me to work with HIM Harry?!" she crossed her arms, waiting for a response.

"It's not exactly going to be a picnic for me either, Granger" the blonde wizard drawled as she spun round with a look of incredulity on her face.

Both glared at the other for a moment before she turned back to Harry with a fierce look, her eyes narrowing.

"And you couldn't even have the decency to tell me Malfoy was standing in your office when I came in?" she growled.

Harry sighed putting his glasses back on his face.

"It's not like you gave me a chance to say much of anything, Hermione" he said, looking at her pointedly.

Hermione flopped down into the seat next to her, a look of defeat on her face.

No one spoke for a minute.

Finally, Malfoy pushed himself away from the wall and took up the file that Harry pushed across the desk towards him.

Determined to be the epitome of cool professionalism, the frustrated witch to his right clearly having a hard time accepting her own sense of defeat, he resolved to have the upper hand at all costs during this assignment.

He looked down at her as a smirk played across his lips.

"This is certainly going to be interesting, Granger".

She glared up at him for a moment before collecting herself. She knew his game and she wasn't going to let him win. They would find out who was killing off muggle-born witches and wizards even if it killed her.

Or, she thought wryly, she killed Him.


	2. Chapter 2

She slammed the door to his study with an almost inhumane force that reverberated around the room. They had been working flat out in her office at the Ministry for the last 2 days. There was very little to go on, but since Dark magic had been used, he had persuaded her to come and use the Malfoy Library.

The pressure of being _there_ , however much she avoided the East Wing, was taking its toll.

Malfoy growled at the now closed door, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. He picked up his notes from the clutter of parchment and books from the library down the hall that lay spread out across his oak wood desk. He slowly went through the sepia file that Potter had given him that first morning, going over the crime scene photos once more. Pulling out the photo of the muggle-born witch, splayed out across the lounge area of her apartment overlooking Thames, her legs disjointed, her blouse bloodied and ripped, he didn't need to see the open gashes, deep and long across her torso to know the spell that was responsible. A large burgundy corona around the body was the only blemish to the luxury cream carpet that covered the open plan apartment. There was no flooded bathroom to wash the effects away this time, he dryly mused.

Turning the photo over, he scanned the MLE Trace Division report already knowing all its details. Their officers had confirmed, while the body was exposed to the harsh glare of lumos charms and the slow flashes of light bulbs from the crime scene technicians cameras, traces of Dark magic in the apartment. In bold red ink across the top of report was written:

CAUSE OF DEATH: SECTUMSEMPRA

With a sigh, he stood, placing the open folder on the desk, as he made to go after the witch who had slammed his door a few minutes ago, hoping she had calmed down somewhat. They had been arguing again and although arguing with her was always a turn on, he was starting to get more than a little tired of the constant fighting. Walking down the hallway in the direction of the library, he chucked to himself at the realisation that some things never changed. If you couldn't find Granger, the little bookworm would no doubt be in a library. He just never expected it to be his library he realised.

"Don't you think it would be better for us both if you just left me alone for a while?" she muttered, her hazel eyes not leaving the page she was studying.

He chose to ignore her question, which they both knew was rhetorical, as he crossed the threshold and made his way over to the desk she had cluttered with her notes and books.

Sitting down in the chair she had been using before she got up to fetch the book she now had her nose in, he scanned her cursive script. She continued to stand with her back to him, determined not to look at him, silently seething that he had stolen her seat. It always annoyed her immensely when someone sat where she had placed her things. It was discourteous at best and an invasion of her space at worse, she considered.

He leaned back in her chair, knowing full well he was pissing her off, her rosy cheeks flushed with unspoken anger. She hadn't calmed down from their previous argument and although he had intended to find a way to placate her in the hope of a less arduous afternoon, he now found himself pressing her buttons once more. He couldn't help it. Their rivalry had gone beyond long forgotten and now politically incorrect blood prejudices and academic competition; they were grown up now and at 24 years old their rivalry was based on sexual tension and professional competition. Okay, he considered, the sexual tension was probably a little one sided, but there was no denying that he pressed her buttons because it was akin to the feeling he expected to get if he ever got the chance to unbutton one of those flimsy cream blouses she insisted on wearing that made her breasts positively alluring in his opinion.

Watching her silently, a small smirk played out across his lips and he knew she was pointedly ignoring him. She brushed a curl away from her eyes and bit her bottom lip. He really wished she wouldn't do that. It triggered an almost primal urge to grab her and throw her onto the desk, burying himself to the hilt as she threw her curly haired head back in vocal release. He growled in frustration as the images of desire flashed across his now closed eyes and she turned, glared at him, threw the book down in disgust, the thump breaking his sexual reverie. She stormed out of the room, grabbing her jacket and purse from the emerald fainting couch as she past it and made off towards the staircase.

He stood up violently, thrusting the chair back with such force it hit the bookcase behind him, knocking two volumes from the shelves. With quick, purposeful strides, he went after her, yelling obscenities and demanding an explanation of where she was off to.

"Home, you foul git!" she cried rushing down the stairs.

He pulled his wand from his pocket and sparks flew across the atrium. Shocked, she ground to a halt, and turned on her heel to face him. He stopped mid decent and the pair glared at each other with unmasked malice.

"Did you seriously just try to hex me?" she yelled, anger flashing behind her eyes, her cheeks flushing deeper than before. He would have found it sexy had he not been equally pissed off with her.

"You can't just storm off, we need to go over this again and find a lead!" he bellowed, his steely glare the epitome of the muggle phrase 'if looks could kill'.

"That's what I've been trying to do for the last two days, it isn't my fault, Ferret, that you just want to play games" she returned, turning again and making her way to the floo.

She spun round as she sensed him raise his wand once more and grabbing her own wand, sent a hex his way, which he narrowly avoided by ducking to one side just in time. He growled as the bannister splintered next to his head and then the step he was stood on took the brunt of the second hex she had sent for good measure.

Without looking back she disappeared into the green flames as the final hex he cast hit the priceless Ming vase his mother had displayed in the atrium.


	3. Chapter 3

She put the now empty bottle down on the coffee table and handed her best friend a glass of the rather wonderful sauvignon blanc that she had been saving for a girlie night like this. Sighing, she leaned back into the sofa and pulled her feet up under her legs.

"I tried to tell him that this would happen, but you know what my husband is like"

"I don't know what he was thinking" Hermione muttered, taking a rather long sip, thankful that Ginny had pulled out the "big guns" as she liked to call the large wine glasses that she reserved for "emergencies" such as breakups with Ron- the reason they were purchased in the first place.

Ginny smiled at the memory

_"I swear Ginny," she licked the spoon contemplatively, if I eat an entire tub of ice cream every time we break up I will get ridiculously fat. It's alright for you" she grinned, patting her swollen tummy "but we aren't both eating for two!"_

"I guess he figured that this case needed the best" she took a sip, glancing at Hermione "you can't deny he is the best Hit Wizard"

Hermione snorted with derision.

"And you are the best researcher"

"Stating the obvious there Ginny" Hermione grinned, raising her glass in mock salute. She was getting tipsy as she drained its contents.

"And you know Harry has been working cases with him since he started at the Ministry" Ginny finished.

"Yea, why is that?" Hermione wondered, leaning forward awkwardly to place her glass on the coffee table. Wine always went straight to her head. It was lucky for her that her on-off relationship with Ron was now decidedly OFF because she had been in danger of turning into a raging alcoholic.

"No one else would work with him at the beginning" Ginny whispered. "It was hard for him you know. You are Ron were still travelling around Europe at the time and he had just come through the London-Trials, the press was all over him practically 24/7. Harry was the only one who trusted him, other than Kingsley, and truth be told Kingsley had privately worried if they didn't find a way to solve the situation, Draco might be vulnerable to the various vigilante groups that were springing up at the time". She sighed, remembering the way her husband would come home from work, genuinely worried about the ramifications for the Department and the Ministry as a whole.

Hermione felt a twinge of guilt when she heard this.

She knew Harry and Malfoy had partnered on numerous cases but she had always assumed it was at Kingsley's insistence rather than by Harry's design. It was true, she and Ron had spent the first two years after the war hopping from one hotel room to the next, from luxury apartments to run down guest houses, from city to city, lost in the whirlwind of it all. They would be fine for weeks on end, then have a massive row, not speak for days, and then make up and make love. It had been fun in the beginning, when everything was fresh and novel, but after spending a year on the run, the novelty of being away from home had worn off. The rows got more frequent, the length of time they spent not talking longer, and they would simply make up and not bother to make love.

Coming back to London had been Hermione's idea and in the end insistence then finally Ron took off again 6 months later after just as many fights.

She couldn't deny that she had been relieved when she came home one day and found his letter.

Ginny however had been fuming at the cowardly actions of her "prick of a brother".

"He comes here every other Sunday for dinner you know?" Ginny said turning in her seat.

"No, I didn't know that" Hermione whispered, her eyes wide and bright.

"Yep" Ginny confirmed "has done since way back then."

Now Hermione felt even more guilty.

She wasn't a slack friend, she was sure, but how could there be so much she just didn't know?

"I feel like a crap friend now" Hermione muttered quietly, not making eye contact with Ginny.

"Relax" she smiled "you have had your own shit going on, and you've had to deal with so much. We were all kids fighting an adults war- conscripted child soldiers is what we were. And on top of that…." she didn't finish the sentence.

Hermione's eyes glazed over.

Everyone well knew about Hermione's parents and that, as far as Ginny was concerned, was what made her brother's actions even more deplorable.

Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"We can only do what we can, while we can" she whispered. "You have been here when it counted, when it mattered. We love you, James loves you, and you are anything but a crappy friend. You will find a way to sort this out with him, it just might not be overnight and that's ok" Ginny smiled at her, before turning her attention to clearing the empty bottle and glasses from the coffee table.

"Narcissa might not be ok with that" Hermione chuckled.

Ginny stopped what she was doing and turned to Hermione, the confusion evident on her face.

Hermione smirked at her best friend

"Malfoy hexed the shit out her Ming vase as I left the Manor this afternoon"


	4. Chapter 4

He put the quill down slowly, staring at her as she stood in the doorway of his study.

He didn't expect to see her today. He assumed after a week of near constant rows, she would go back to the Ministry and either get him kicked off the case or just carry on researching there leaving him to it at the Manor.

"About yesterday" she began.

He said nothing.

"We really do need to try and get on better." she said, coming into the room and sitting herself the other side of the desk.

"That's what you said yesterday" he said, leaning back in his chair.

"I know" she muttered, looking at her hands in her lap.

"And the day before" he continued.

She said nothing.

"Mother isn't very happy" he smirked. He chose not to tell her he had spent the morning arguing with her in the Blue Room about it and when she mentioned the vases, he had hexed on right in front of her, just to piss her off.

"I am aware" she muttered. She wanted to sort this out, truly she did, but he wasn't exactly making it easier for her.

"She is keeping score" he quirked a brow.

She looked up.

"Four Ming vases now!" he continued.

Hermione glared at him, her anger boiling over

"YOU broke the vases, not me! YOU were throwing hexes every time I went to leave. There is no point me being here if all we are doing is yelling at each other all the time. We are getting nowhere with this case because YOU are insistent there HAS to be more to it than the sectumsempra. I was perfectly happy at the Ministry, YOU insisted we come here, but YOU make it difficult every day. I have tried, Merlin know's I have tried, to concentrate on the case, to apologise, to try and get on, but YOU make it difficult all the time" she yelled, her eyes shining with fury.

He was no longer finding this funny. Surely she was aware how difficult she was being?

"FUCKING HELL GRANGER!" He roared 6 days worth of frustration and anger pouring out. He slammed his fist down on the desk enraged.

She stood up and started yelling obscenities at him, in every language. Just like yesterday and just like the day before. Every word of Ginny's forgotten.

"JUST LISTEN TO ME!" He yelled.

"NO!" she screamed and turning on her heel, she fled the library slamming the door behind her. He went after her as she went running down the staircase.

He pulled out his wand and threw a hex.

She turned around.

"STOP FUCKING HEXING ME! I cannot believe this, I even went to see Ginny the other night after I left here and she told me to go easy on you, to see things from your point of view! But every time I try, you do THIS!" She yelled. He stopped in his tracks.

"You can let go of the past when it comes to Harry, but not when it comes to me. Why not?"

He crossed the atrium in three quick strides, with each stride towards her, she felt herself move back towards the oak panelling that lined the wall.

She was now pressed up against it, his hands braced either side of her head and she glared at him in defiance, not a trace of fear in her. Merlin this woman would be the death of him.

"Don't you see Granger, I have let go of it" he whispered "Don't you even know what you do to me?"

She said nothing, but the look in her eyes softened.

"You don't hate me?" she whispered, her mind racing over the last week's arguments to see if she had misunderstood anything and realised quite possibly she had misunderstood everything.

"Far from it, Granger" he replied, capturing her lips with his.


	5. Chapter 5

Logic, it seemed, had long been forgotten.

She had taken leave of her senses; was no longer responsible for her actions.

Could be considered non- _compos mentis_.

For a moment she allowed herself to succumb to the sweet intoxicating desire that engulfed her.

Then all rational thought returned with a tsunami like force, flooding her brain and tossing frigid water on the flames of her arousal.

The palms of her hands, slightly slick with sweat, came to his chest and with a small growl that he momentarily mistook for a feminine purr, she shoved him back just as he started to deepen the kiss.

She had on some level been aware of another presence in the atrium and that this little display had not gone unseen.

Confusion apparent in his eyes, she looked up at him, her honey flecked hazel eyes giving him a milliseconds worth of insight into her soul.

"No" she whispered, lightly pushing him to one side as she escaped her physical and mental predicament.

"Granger.." he quietly started.

She turned towards him, her expression calm and relaxed. Resolute even.

"We can't. We need to find a common ground but we can't do that. I'm sorry" she told him gently, and he knew she meant it.

"I'll see you at the office tomorrow" she finished, reaching for his hand to give it a quick squeeze. He watched her in silence as she tossed the floo powder into the fireplace clearly saying the address of her house overlooking Richmond Park.

Her eyes met his as she disappeared in the green flames.

One hand in his pocket, the other running through his platinum locks, he crossed the threshold of the Blue Room, pointedly ignoring the two people he knew to be sat in there as he strode over to the drinks cabinet.

"I am thinking of redecorating, Draco." his Mother drawled nonchalantly

He poured himself a double firewhiskey refusing to respond.

"Minimalist is in fashion and it seems prudent have less items cluttering the more, shall we say, occupied rooms of the house" she continued.

Theo was unable to suppress his amusement and quietly chuckled.

Draco turned and stared at his mother and then glared at Theo, before storming out the room and heading back up the stairs to his study.

Theo rose from his seat in readiness to leave. His eyes twinkled as he kissed both Narcissa's cheeks in farewell. He appreciated having a mother-figure now that his Father was dead and growing up with Draco and Blaise had provided him with a surrogate family of sorts. A dysfunctional family, granted, but the three boys had remained as close as brothers into their adulthood and Narcissa provided them all with an equal amount of affection. It was therefore only natural that she had filled this role for him and in return he accepted wholeheartedly the fortnightly invitation to have Afternoon Tea with her.

"Tea was certainly entertaining, Narcissa dearest" he smirked, and although her ever stoic features remained unchanged, he saw the flicker of amusement in her eyes. Yes, she and Draco had argued about the destruction of the Ming vases but she wasn't angry about their destruction. She was angry about his refusal to back down.

When he threw the hex that had resulted in the loss of the fourth and final vase, it had been because Narcissa had pressed him, again, to invite Hermione to tea so that she could apologise in person for the events that had transpired 7 years ago in the East Wing.

He of course refused. He wouldn't subject her to reliving her trauma.


	6. Chapter 6

Rubbing his forehead, he willed the migraine forming to cease its assault on his central nervous system.

Draco dropped the Black Notice from the MLE Interpol liaison on the desk. Harry had summoned him to the Head Auror Office at 6am, fully expecting his Hit Wizard to confirm his suspicions.

"Yes, it's the same" he sighed, sitting down opposite his friend and boss.

An unidentified muggle-born witch had been killed in Paris, with all the hallmarks of the killing that had taken place in London less than 2 weeks ago.

"Ok" Harry started "Get Laura to send a memo over to the liaison and have him brief his counterpart at the French Ministry. Send an Owl to Hermione and let her know to come into the office so I can brief her. Tell Robertson when he speaks to the French Ministry that they need to contain this. I don't want anything leaking to the press, muggle or wizarding. I don't want The Prophet telling half of France you and Hermione are in Paris. Keep a low profile. I don't want you staying in a wizarding hotel"

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's orders as he listed them off one by one automatically.

"I'm not your rookie anymore, Potter, I know the drill." he chuckled light heartedly.

Harry paused, unsure how much he should divulge.

"Listen" he began "About Hermione…."

Draco's expression changed, and for a brief moment he panicked about how much he knew about their exchange the previous afternoon.

Harry took off his glasses and sighed.

"Forget it mate" he gave Draco a tired smile "just ask her to come in as soon as she can"

Hermione was vaguely aware of a tapping sound as she stirred from her fitful slumber. Opening her eyes, she glanced at the clock

07:26

 _"Urgh_." She thought. " _I could have done with those last 4 minutes of sleep_."

The tapping resumed and suddenly she realised what the noise was.

Throwing her duvet to one side, she slipped out of her bed and quickly padded her way across the bedroom to the window. Opening it enough for her to reach her hand through, she exchanged the rolled up slip of parchment for a treat. She watched the Ministry Owl fly high above the trees that were dotted across the park before turning her attention to the official note.

_Granger_

_New development. Harry wants you to stop by his office on your way in. Will meet you in your office 8am_

_Malfoy_

She left the note on her desk in the corner of her room, figuring she had just about enough time to have a quick shower and grab a coffee before flooing to the Ministry.

Malfoy smiled at Harry's secretary Laura as he and Hermione stepped into the little ante-office. Hermione threw him a look of incredulity.

"What?" he whispered, a little amused by her reaction.

Without knocking, she opened the door to Harry's office knowing he was expecting them.  
"Morning Harry" she greeted him warmly.

Harry gave her a kiss before settling down to business.

"I need you two to go to Paris"

* * *

**A/N**

For those who don't know there are 8 kinds of notice that are issued by Interpol:

 **Red Notice** To seek the location and arrest of a person wanted by a judicial jurisdiction or an international tribunal with a view to his/her extradition.

 **Blue Notice** To locate, identify or obtain information on a person of interest in a criminal investigation.

 **Green Notice** To warn about a person's criminal activities if that person is considered to be a possible threat to public safety.

 **Yellow Notice** To locate a missing person or to identify a person unable to identify himself/herself.

 **Black Notice** To seek information on unidentified bodies.

 **Orange Notice** To warn of an event, a person, an object or a process representing an imminent threat and danger to persons or property.

 **Purple Notice** To provide information on _modi operandi_ , procedures, objects, devices or hiding places used by criminals.

 **Interpol-United Nations Security Council Special Notice** To inform Interpol's members that an individual or an entity is subject to UN sanctions.

Notices can be issued in any of the four official languages of Interpol: English, French, Spanish and Arabic.


	7. Chapter 7

He stared at the contraption in front of him.

Muggles. Were. Weird.

There was no other explanation for it.

He tentatively put a finger on the panel that was parallel to the coffee table.

"It's only a laptop! It won't bite you!" Granger called from the kitchen, pulling a bottle of wine from the rack and grabbing two glasses.

He eyed the bright panel that she had referred to as the screen with a curious suspicion, then peered over the top of it as Granger came back into the lounge, removing her heels while bracing herself against the wall, sighing contentedly as she felt those delicate calves he so admired relax, her toes spreading slightly into the plushness of the carpet. He watched her roll her neck and shoulders, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

Merlin he wanted to do things to that ivory neck.

His eyes drifted down and he noted she had removed her jacket. She stopped her stretching and came over to the coffee table, leaning across it to check his progress.

The delicate silk of her blouse fell away with ease.

Sweet Merlin, she was going to kill him.

"You haven't even loaded Google" she complained, exasperated, coming around the coffee table, using her leg to gently nudge him.

"Budge up then!" she huffed and he glared up at her as he moved further along the sofa.

She placed the wine and the glasses on the table next to the laptop, and her fingers set to work tapping and clicking.

"Right, you just type in here what you need to look up, so we want 'Hotels' 'Paris' and then hit enter. See!" she pointed to the screen without looking at him "it then gives you a list of hotels in Paris. Ok…." her eyes narrowed as she checked through the list "Central Paris would probably be best, we can take an International Portkey, or we could go by Eurostar?" she turned to him, her eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I think not" he muttered, scowling.

"No…" she considered it a moment "you are probably right, it would be quicker to just head straight to the French Ministry."

She continued tapping. "Harry said there isnt a lot in the budget…."

"I will pay" he cut her off.

She turned and stared at him.

"It's for the case, the Ministry will cover it, we just have to go for somewhere affordable"

"I am not staying anywhere less than 5 Star, Granger, so I will cover it" he smirked at her.

Hermione scowled at him

"Is it really necessary to be arrogant.."

"It's not arrogance.."

"Yes it is…"

"Granger. The best way to ensure we have privacy, that we maintain security, and that we can work on the case, is to go for a 5 Star Hotel which will have access to a business center or at the very least a fax machine because you know very well we can't use Owls in muggle areas. And Potter said keep a low profile. No wizard hotels"

She huffed her resignation to his logic. He had a point, but she hated it when he outsmarted her like that.

"Fine." She muttered, tapping away. "Here's the list" she turned the laptop towards him and showed him how to scroll down.

"Pick one, I'm going to make a sandwich, I'm starving" she said getting up.

He looked through the list.

"Grand Hôtel du Palais Royal" he called to her. "What do I do to book it?"

He heard a crash from the kitchen.

"Granger? Are you alright?" he rushed to the kitchen.

"I'm fine!" she waved him away "Just dropped a plate, that's all."

He bent down to pick up the pieces while she retrieved the little pan and brush to clearing up the debris.

"You know it would be easier.."

"Don't!" she stated.

"What?" he chuckled "You don't know what I was going to say!"

"I know very well what you were going to say Malfoy and you know very well what my opinion on the matter is!" she huffed, dropping the contents of the pan into the bin.

"They make life easier though!" he stated, going back to the sofa.

"Its not a matter I care to discuss" she sternly told him.

He put his hands up in surrender and sat back down.

She stood in the doorway, an uncertain look on her face.

"Anyway about this hotel…"

"We aren't staying there." she muttered

"What? Why not? Looks quite nice" he carefully scrolled down in the way she had shown him

"We are not going there." she folded her arms across her chest.

He stared at her a moment.  
"Are you going to tell me why?" he asked her slowly, holding her eyes.

"No" she muttered, looking away. "Pick another"

He looked back at the screen.

"Hôtel de Vendôme?" he suggested, clicking on the website like she had shown him to.

"Veto!" she called from the kitchen.

"Err, how to I get back to that list?" he wasn't sure what he had done, but the screen was now black. He clicked furiously at different buttons, growing exasperated. He considered hexing the damn thing.

"Oh for crying out loud!" she padded back to the sofa "like this!" she cried, moving her hand over the part where she had told him to scroll, his eyes following her instructions. He was getting the hang of this. Slowly. Maybe he wouldn't need to hex it after all.

She stood next to him, waiting for a third option. He scrolled down the list, scrutinising the little pictures.

"Le Meurice Hotel?" he suggested, looking up at her, his steely gaze meeting her warm hazel eyes.

She considered this for a moment, looking away from his prying eyes, trying to recall distant memories.

"Yes that one" she quietly muttered, her brow now formed into a deep frown.

"Sure?" he checked, his finger poised over the keys.

"Yes that one is fine" she quietly answered.

Something was off with her about this and he couldn't work out what, but he sensed there was no point pressing it.

"Two rooms" she whispered.

He looked up at her.  
"Wouldnt it be better to have a suite?" he asked

She opened her mouth to protest.

"Suites have more than one room, Granger" he quietly told her, knowing what she was about to say.

"Whatever you want Malfoy" she replied, almost inaudible.

Merlin, she had no idea what he wanted.


	8. Chapter 8

Sunlight poured in through the balcony door, the soft clink of cutlery on china and gentle murmurs of conversation from the cafe across the street drifted in stirring her from her slumber. A scooter roared down the narrow passageway and out onto the street and somewhere in the distance a car blew its horn. Hermione had missed the Parisian atmosphere, however she wasn't aware of the longing for the city until she had stepped out of the Ministry entrance and onto the Place de la concorde when they arrived 5 days ago. Every morning had been the same; the sounds of the cafe woke her up and she would quietly shower, dress, and slip out of the penthouse suite before Malfoy rose. She had rolled her eyes when he pressed the button in the elevator on their first morning.

"What?" he smirked

"Bit obvious don't you think?" she tutted, turning away from him.

"Only suite they had, Granger" he grinned, leaning casually against the back of the elevator.

She greeted the waiter like an old friend, her French impeccable and her manner casual, sitting at one of the tables on the pavement. She ordered the same thing every morning, and read that day's editions of Le Monde and Les Echos that she had picked up in the lobby of the hotel before slipping out. Sipping her black coffee and nibbling on her tartine she soaked up the atmosphere while making sure she kept up to date with local and financial news in case it gave away any leads. She wasn't particularly interested in financial news, however Les Echos provided a suitable cover for her copy of that morning's edition of Le Prophète which a French Ministry Owl delivered through her open balcony door promptly at 6:15 each morning. She was guaranteed that no one would lean over trying to catch a glimpse at the latest gossip and accidently catch sight of the moving images of the wizarding newspaper if she was seen to be reading a boring newspaper with nothing more entertaining than the latest price of oil.

Malfoy didn't know what he was missing she mused, thinking about how he was lazing around in his room of the suite, indulging in a lie in. So far this week he had yet to rise before 10.30 which gave Hermione plenty of time to enjoy her petite breakfast in a relaxed fashion.

There was nothing of any relevance to the case in either the muggle nor the wizarding paper and, she noted, so far the Ministry had managed to keep a lid on their presence in Paris and their involvement in the case. On both sides of the channel as far as the press was concerned there had only been one murder. Interpol had made it clear to the liaisons at both the British and French Ministries that they wanted the Black Notice to remain classified and that not a single word about the case was to end up in the media of either country. In any format, Muggle or Wizarding.

On a personal level Hermione was pleased that so far the society pages of Le Prophète seemed blissfully unaware the most famous former Death Eater and one third of the Golden Trio were in town.

She thanked Merlin that it seemed Rita Skeeter didn't have a French doppelganger.

Across the street, on the top floor of the building opposite, a blonde man stood on a balcony, casually leaning against the railing, sipping coffee. For the last 4 mornings, he had woken up to the gentle sound of water running and soft feminine humming in the room next door. The water stopped but the humming continued as he listened to the movements in the adjacent room, not rising from his bed. He heard the door open and listened as the girl next door crossed the next room and the soft click of the main door as it shut. Only then would he get up, grab a precise 210 second shower at 75 degrees Fahrenheit. He would then grab a towel and dry his hair for 15 seconds, his body for 10 seconds and then slip on a crisp monogramed tailored shirt, and black trousers. This would take no more than 50 seconds exactly. He would then summon a coffee with his wand and step out onto his balcony, and lean over the railing in time to see the young girl exit the building holding what appeared to be two newspapers, but he knew in fact to be three. The girl would then cross the street, a gentle skip in her step and she would greet the waiter in a flawless accent, her grasp of the language fluent. She ordered the same breakfast each morning: a cup of black coffee and tartine. He watched her as she read her papers, soaking up the Parisian ambience, and the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.

Every morning, she would sit there and he would quietly watch her, occasionally scrutinising the rest of the clientele of the cafe, remembering his boss' motto, passed down by his own mentor: constant vigilance.

At exactly 10.20 she would fold up her newspapers, leave the exact amount of muggle Euros plus tip on the saucer with her bill, and he would hear her call au revoir to the waiter, giving him a friendly wave as she left. She would cross the street, and he would return to his bedroom. 3 and a half minutes later, he would hear the click of the door as she came into the room beyond his bedroom door. He would then go into the ensuite bathroom, turn on the shower and leave it running while he spent 2 and a half minutes shaving. For good measure, he would damp his hair and run a comb through it. Exiting the bathroom, he would do his tie, put on his shoes, and close the balcony door quietly. Then he would exit the bedroom and greet the girl as if he had only just dragged his lazy behind out of the shower.

"Morning, Granger"


	9. Chapter 9

Three weeks.

They had been stuck in Paris three weeks.

Without a single breakthrough.

He was officially going insane.

"Pass me that file, Malfoy, I want to take another look at the crime scene photos" Hermione asked, not looking up from her notes.

She was sat on a cushion on the floor, legs crossed, leaning over the coffee table in the lounge part of the penthouse suite. Scribbling furiously, she jotted down anything she thought might be helpful from the documents they had finally managed to get from the French Ministry.

Draco growled, chucking the blue file to her, his aim off.

The file knocked her hand and she slipped with her quill.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she cried.

They had spent the last two days arguing as Draco grew more and more frustrated with the petty bureaucracy he had endured trying to obtain the Trace file.

She wasn't sure who was getting the bill from the hotel for what, by the last count, amounted to:

Three throw cushions

One tv

Six bathroom tiles

Two vases (not Ming)

One occasional table

And what had been, Hermione thought, a lovely painting of Paris at night (artist unknown)

All she knew was she certainly wasn't paying for any of it.

The only certainty as far as she was concerned, was that HE would be buying her a new laptop.

Quite why he had felt the need to hex it while she went down to the lobby to fax Harry, she would never know.

And he refused to answer anyway.

"You wanted the file" he huffed, getting up from the sofa and going over to the mini bar.

He had reached his limit.

He was going to get rip roaring drunk.

Hermione grabbed her wand and cast a _silencio_ on the suite and he groaned loudly, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the mini bar, before slamming the door shut.

And that's when the screaming started.

He didn't bother to react to begin with.

Just listed them off mentally.

English.

French.

Italian.

Spanish.

English.

Dutch.

English.

"STOP FUCKING CALLING ME FERRET" he yelled (Obviously English)

Farsi? That was new.

Spanish.

Portuguese.

Italian.

Italian.

Italian.

He had never been insulted so colourfully in so many languages. He had to admit, that was part of the appeal.

English.

English.

Russian.

...that one he wasn't sure of, but he thought it might be Finnish

Russian.

Russian.

German.

Polish.

Finnish. That one was DEFINITELY Finnish

He didn't know she was quite so fluent. It was remarkable really, how she could lapse into each language almost seamlessly. And he was fairly certain she was unaware of it.

"Wait!What? Can you repeat that?" he was genuinely shocked.

"You're not even fucking listening to me are you?!" she picked up a cushion and threw it at him. He ducked and it landed on the island in the kitchenette, knocking a glass to the floor that smashed.

Ok, THAT she was paying for.

"I was listening, but I want you to repeat what you just said" he said, wanting to be sure he heard correctly.

So she did

Parseltongue?

Seriously?

Italian.

Long speech in Italian. Thank Merlin she was nowhere near Blaise.

Silence.

She had run out of steam.

He put the vodka down next to the coffee table and walked over to the kitchette, crouching down to pick up the bits of the broken glass.

"OW! FUCK!" he hissed, crimson pooling on the floor. He winced in pain, dropping the piece he was holding to try to remove the shard embedded in his hand.

"Holy shit Malfoy!" Hermione grabbed her wand and rushed to him. "Come here and let me help you" she tried to pull him towards the sofa.

"Its o….fuck no its not" he muttered.

"Don't keep trying to pull it out like that" she said, grabbing his wrist.

"Sit down, let me take a look"

He sat on the sofa as she perched herself on the coffee table.

Gently, she took his hand and placed it in her lap. She grabbed the vodka from where he had left it next to the coffee table, and opened the bottle.

"You're going to want some of this." she said, handing him the bottle.

Without question, he took a long swig.

She carefully started to work on taking the shard of glass out of his hand.

Wincing he took another swig.

She pulled a bit more.

He hissed and looked away.

"Nearly there" she cooed as if talking to a child who had grazed his knee.

He thumped the arm rest and took another swig.

He hated vodka but they were all out of Firewhiskey.

"Done" she muttered, grabbing her wand.

He felt the tingle of her magic lick across his hand.

It was the singular most erotic thing she had done to him thus far.

Her wand caressed his skin, healing his hand and he watched her intently as she concentrated her focus on him, her fingers laced in his.

She put her wand on the coffee table but didn't release his hand.

"Better?" she whispered, looking up into his steely gaze.

He swallowed.

Hard.

Yes, he was hard alright, he thought dryly.

He gave her a small nod and tugged her gently into his lap.

Neither said a word and he continued to stare at her.

Her gaze fell to his lips and he knew he needed to act now.

Slowly, his lip captured hers, and he gave her a gentle kiss.

She responded gently kissing back.

His tongue flicked over her bottom lip and she opened her delicate mouth to let him in.

Emboldened, he touched her tongue with his and gave it a little flick.

She did the same, her hands coming up to grab his t-shirt.

He placed one hand on the back of her neck, his thumb caressing her nape.

He deepened the kiss and she responded.

He placed a hand on her back and that is when he felt her go rigid.

She gasped, and opened her eyes.

He didn't move.

She yelped and pushed back onto the coffee table.

This time she caught the hurt in his eyes just before he shuttered it away.

"We can't" she whispered.

He nodded.

She fled to her room, the door banging shut behind her.

He growled, grabbed the bottle of vodka and Owled Blaise.

_Women are a fucking pain in the arse._

_Where the fuck are you?_

_DM_

Then he skulked off to bed, banging his own door for good measure.


	10. Chapter 10

He ran a hand over his balding head and stared at the English couple who sat the other side of his rosewood desk. Folding his hands on the blue ink blotter in front of him, he waited patiently while they perused the taupe file he had handed them when his secretary Elodie showed them through at 9:15.

"Yes it's the same" stated the blonde wizard as he made to place the file on the desk.

The brunette next to him coughed slightly, and her colleague narrowed his eyes, handing her the file.

She slowly placed the images in front of her, pushing the open file to one side. She meticulously studied each image, her eyes darkened as she carefully considered each detail of the Trace report.

"You better Floo call Harry about the Black Notice" she told her partner, her eyes not leaving the images.

How she could bear to look at them he didn't know.

He summoned Elodie and asked her to show the blonde wizard to the Communications Department so that he could contact his boss on a secure international Floo.

"Do you require any assistance in arranging accommodation in Berlin, Mademoiselle?" He asked her with measured politeness.

The young brunette considered his offer for a moment.

"No, it's fine Minister, Mr Malfoy and I shall sort that out when we get back to our hotel" she replied, re-reading the Trace report.

There was so little to go on that he wondered what benefit it could possibly have to go through the few documents they had been passed by the German Ministry Interpol Liaison.

"Would you like Elodie to show you to the atrium?" he asked, his eyebrow quirked questioningly.

The brunette looked up at him, appearing startled by the question, before smiling politely and gathering the files into her briefcase.

"That would be lovely, Minister" she coolly replied, rising from her seat.

Elodie entered the office and smiled at the brunette, before allowing her to pass by out into the little ante-office where she found Malfoy perched on the corner of Elodie's desk. The brunette scowled.

"Everything okay Granger?" Malfoy asked her, the amusement evident in his eyes.

"Perfectly" she replied, her tone clipped.

Elodie showed them to the atrium, her bright red heels clicking along the flagstone flooring of the Ministry hallways.

Hermione continued to scowl, her eyes fixed on the heels, the noise irritating more with each step.

Red was such an obvious colour, she thought.

It could have been worse she considered, dryly.

They could have been green.


	11. Chapter 11

She threw her briefcase on the couch and placed the bottle of Colombard on the island in the kitchenette. Grumbling something about shopping bags and women, Malfoy came through the door and dumped the packages on the coffee table.

Hermione chose to ignore his complaints.

It was his fault that they had to go buy a laptop in the first place.

The fact that it had provided an excuse for her to spend a couple of hours at Carrousel du Louvre was just happenstance.

Carrying her bags was, she had decided, an apt punishment for his behaviour earlier.

"You got over your little strop yet" he groused. He hated shopping, he hated moody women and he hated carrying shopping bags.

She opened the wine and poured herself a glass. A large glass.

"I was not in a strop" she hissed.

"No? Then what the hell was all that about at the Ministry" he asked her, his eyebrow raising as he watched her finger the stem of the glass.

"That odious, insipid little man! He practically tossed us out on our ear" she started, rage bubbling under the surface. Her passionate nature was so much more alluring when it wasn't directed at him.

"So you took that out on me because?" he questioned casually. He wasn't actually trying to pick a fight with her this time. He genuinely wanted her to see she had been unreasonable.

"I didn't take anything out on you!" she hissed, her cheeks starting to flush.

"So what was that little display of petty jealousy about then?" he smirked, eyes holding her gaze.

She drained her glass and chuckled.

"What? When you were chatting up the girl at the Apple Store?" she scoffed, pouring herself another glass.

"No" he casually replied. She was trying to avoid looking at him, but he continued to focus on her.

"When you were chatting up the girl at L'Occitane?" she muttered, coming across to the couch, sitting down and taking off her kitten heels.

"No" he replied, staring at her creamy calves.

"When you were practically drooling over the waitress at Le Café Richelieu?" she glared at him.

"No" he replied, still staring at those calves.

She frowned and thought for a minute.

"Oh!" she cried, draining her second glass of wine before placing her glass on the coffee table "When you were all over Monsieur Bernard's little harlot" she laughed derisively.

"So what was all that about?" he asked her, his tone even.

"What was what about?" she asked, grabbing the bag with the laptop in.

"Your little scene?" he genuinely wanted to know but he equally didn't want to provoke her fiery temper. It was a dangerous road to go down and he knew it.

"I didn't make a scene" her tone laced with disdain as she unpacked the box.

"No?" he chuckled, loosening his tie.

"I just think" she sighed "that you need to concentrate on the fact that we need to sort out travelling to Berlin and that red heels are highly inappropriate for an office environment. I mean after all it is a place of business. Serious business. Governmental business in fact. And her footwear screamed 'Red light district' more than 'important Ministry business. It certainly wasn't jealousy though." The flush to her cheeks a deeper shade of red now. "Plus it's so cliche" she muttered, frowning at the package in front of her.

"But no jealousy, Granger?" he chortled, looking across at her.

"Don't be ridiculous" she sighed "Why would I be jealous?" she turned and looked at him.

"You tell me" he quietly replied, reaching to brush a finger across her forearm.

Hermione grabbed the laptop and charger and scurried to the kitchenette in a fluster.

"What are you doing? He asked, confused by her sudden flurry of activity.

"The battery will be flat so it needs to charge for a few minutes before we can use it, but even then we will need to use it plugged in. We can't leave it too much longer. I told you we should have gone to an internet cafe!" she was starting to feel stressed.

"Harry said no exposure, so no internet cafe" he reasoned, coming over to the kitchenette and seating himself at one of the bar stools around the island. He pulled the laptop towards himself and switched it on. That much he had got the hang of. She pulled it back towards herself and he furrowed his brow in confusion at her action.

"It needs to be set up the first time you use it" she explained, tapping the keys quietly while he helped himself to a glass of her wine since she obviously had no intention of offering him any.

After a few minutes, she pushed the laptop towards him, the screen showing Google.

"Figured you needed the practice" she winked, stepping out of the confined space to grab her glass from where it sat on the coffee table.

"Hotels, Berlin, 5 Star...yes?" he was concentrating so hard she almost looked for steam from his ears.

"Yea" she casually replied, pouring the last of the bottle into her glass. She knew she should have bought two.

He tapped and clicked for a few moments.

"Ok..Lux 11 Berlin-Mitte?" he looked at her. She visibly paled.

"Veto" she said, draining her third glass in less than an hour.

"Why?" he asked baffled, feeling a sense of Déjà vu.

"Because" she muttered, as though that was the only explanation needed.

"Because?..." he prodded.

"Leave it" she whispered, bracing her hands on the Island.

He turned his attention to the next one on the list.

"Grand Hyatt Berlin?" he stole a glance at her. She was shaking. He grew concerned.

"Seriously, why do you keep vetoing…"

"I don't want to talk about it" she said, eyes screwed shut.

"Hey, it's ok" he whispered, reaching out to touch his finger to hers.

She relaxed a little.

"Hotel Adlon Kempinski Berlin?" he quietly asked, watching her for a reaction.

She relaxed a bit more.

She bit her lip, thinking.

He tried to ignore the twitch of his cock; he knew she was thinking.

"I can't remem….." she started "let me have a look" she spun the laptop round, squinting at the pictures.

"No." she muttered "Yea that one is ok" she felt his gaze but refused to make eye contact, instead opening the mini bar to see what was left.

Shutting it, she felt like they were turning into alcoholics and the sense of Déjà vu was unnerving. In two weeks they had drained the mini bar no less than four times. And she had brought back wine every other night. Granted, you didn't get much in a mini bar, even in a penthouse suite, but even so, the level of consumption was starting to concern her. It was too much like _before_ , especially considering the amount of times they fought.

But this was different.

They mostly fought because they were both frustrated with the case.

And, after the incident with the broken glass, she had to admit there was unresolved sexual tension. She didn't want to admit it but she had felt a twinge of jealousy each time he had openly flirted with women in front of her.

Not a lot, just a twinge.

A smidgen.

Not a stab.

Ok, a stab of jealousy. But nothing more than that.

Ok. Fine. She wanted to hex each of those girls into the next century.

"Mita vittua?!" she suddenly declared, eyes wide.

Malfoy stared at her. She was swearing in Finnish again.

"What?" he said, a little concerned she was about to go into one of her linguistically colourful rages.

"Nothing" she quickly said.

_"Im just falling for Draco Malfoy"_ she thought.


	12. Chapter 12

Their plush Brandenburg Gate Suites overlooked the famous landmark itself and Hermione marvelled at the view their adjoining suites provided her. Sipping her kaffee inhaling the strong aroma of the Vienna roast, she sighed and wondered if they would actually get a break in the case any time soon or if it they were destined to track this killer all over Europe without actually getting any closer to catching them.

What she couldn't understand, she thought as she walked over to the desk and pulled out the two Black Notices, trying to work out what they were overlooking, was why none of the witches were known. Black Notices were issued for unidentified bodies. How could someone be locating muggle-born witches that no one else knew? How was it that no one was reporting these women missing?

Placing the paperwork back on the desk, a gentle knock came at the door.

Malfoy let himself in before she could respond, his files tucked under his arm, toast between his teeth, a coffee in his hand.

"Morning, Granger" he finally greeted her, having put the files and coffee on the little table next to the chair he had claimed as "his seat" when they arrived a week ago, removing the toast from his mouth.

"Plan on getting dressed any time soon?" he asked, trying to avoid looking at her in the fluffy complimentary dressing gown she was currently wearing.

"Yea, I was just about to" she sighed. She was feeling increasingly depressed about the lack of progress.

He made a show of sorting his paperwork, glancing occasionally at her as she moved about the room grabbing clothes before heading back into her bathroom.

He groaned.

They had been working on this case nearly two months and he was growing increasingly frustrated. No progress had been made and although the arguments had lessened-although she still swore at him in a multitude of languages- he was still frustrated in part because of her. The two kisses they had shared haunted him and the only relief he had came in the form of the frigid showers he took each morning.

His reverie was broken by tapping at the window and he opened it to take the parchment from the familiar owl as Hermione clicked the bathroom door shut.

_Women are only good for one thing as I keep telling you!_

_I'm in Milan with a figa pazzescaa by the name of Bianca. Heading to Venice in two weeks._

_Giudecca, 30100 Venice_

_Come find me!_

_BZ_

With Granger in tow? Not bloody likely, he thought snorting to himself.

A few moments later Hermione padded out of the little ensuite room and settled herself on the couch, the coffee table in front of her cluttered with notes and books. She had spent the last two days at the German Ministry getting information from their aurors.

When she returned yesterday afternoon he had been surprised to see her remove a stack of files from her brief case.

It seemed that several threatening letters had been sent to the witch before she was killed.

This was certainly an interesting development.

Hermione couldn't help feeling a sense of familiarity about the case but she couldn't put her finger on what is was. The frustration was etched on her face as she perused the files with meticulous precision.

Draco glanced over at her and was relieved to find she had forgone the usual attire of flimsy cream silk blouses and 'respectable-length' (so Granger he thought amusedly) pencil skirts and those little kitten heels that he thought made her ankles positively delectable. Today she had gone for the more casual look of black yoga pants and a ratty oversized Gryffindor quidditch top that she had clearly had since 7th year and he secretly hoped hadn't previously been owned by a certain Weasley.

Funny, he thought, how some rivalries, like house allegiances, were destined to remain forever engrained on the psyche.

Hermione glanced over at Malfoy, sensing his staring, her quill paused mid flow.

"What?" she asked, frowning at his scowl, confused.

He softened his features and went back to his own stack of paperwork.

"Aren't you a little old to be wearing a Gryffindor shirt, Granger?" he drawled, his eyes fixed on the report he was reading.

Hermione snorted.

"I am sure you would think very differently if I was wearing a Slytherin shirt, Malfoy!" her tone pithy as she turned her attention back to her notes.

Great, he inwardly groaned.

Now he had the image of an otherwise naked Granger in a Slytherin shirt in his head to contend with.

* * *

**A/N:** Originally my plan had been to gradually weave in the blackstory towards the end with her revealing through conversations with Ginny (my favourite way to tie the threads) and Draco but last night I had an inspiring thought. I got out my laptop and started jotting down a few pieces of what was floating around in my head to see if it would work...and the end result was something I thought worked best if split down into 3 parts. Most of the crumbs from this have been picked up and scattered into what is now R for Ronald as a sort of prequel. The style is similar to Set the Fire to the Third Bar, but where that was memories, this is snippets over conversations that take you from just after the 2nd Wizarding War, right up to the start of M for Murder, charting the course of her relationship with Ron and an explanation for the time gap between their break up and Harry assigning her to work with Draco. There is one thing you will notice has been left out and you will just have to try and work that out for yourselves, or wait for a bit longer to satisfy your curiosity ;) I hope you enjoy it - its a sort of experiment with style for me so I am really eager to hear the readers thoughts about whether it works or not. Like with Set the Fire, its supposed to be a little vague in who is speaking and for native speakers of the languages I have used, please be aware any translation errors are entirely accidental as I am not Hermione, and I am not fluent in several European languages and one Persian one ;) Blame google for any errors!

* * *

A/N: figa pazzesca is Italian for "very beautiful woman" when spoken between two very close male friends. Thanks to Torigingerfox for another superb Italian Lesson! ;)


	13. Chapter 13

_You never see things from my point of view! You aren't the only one who lost someone, Hermione!_

_Grief is still grief, whether you lose someone physically or not, Ronald!_

_I can't keep doing this_

_I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said half the things I said. Come here, look, let's just go to bed and make love and everything will feel better in the morning._

_Ron! You've got to see this!_

_It's beautiful here._

_How does Grand Hyatt Berlin sound? It says here it's a 5-star hotel with a large rooftop spa and pool and spectacular views of Berlin_

_Let's see? suites feature the latest B &O TVs and hot drinks facilities. The marble bathrooms include flat-screen TVs, and free WiFi, yea that suits me!_

_You're being ridiculous!_

_Fuck sake Hermione, you know what? You're fucking hard work. I never had half this shit with Lavender!_

_Hermione, talk to me. Seriously, it's been a week now._

_You're beautiful and I really don't deserve you._

* * *

Hermione woke with a start, drenched in sweat and tangled in sheets that were so tight around her slight frame they practically cut off her circulation.

She hadn't dreamt about him in a while, but when she did the dreams were always a vivid mosaic of memories. It always made her feel slightly nauseated when she awoke.

She glanced at the clock. 03:24. Marvellous, she thought, glaring at the clock as she rose from the bed. She padded over to her ensuite bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired. Not just from a lack of sleep but from life in general.

Her fingers touched the lines that had appeared by her eyes and the corners of her mouth, poking her face as she scruitinised her reflection in the mirror.

She had expected the war to have an effect on her. It had made them all grow up far too quickly. She hadn't banked on the after having such a profound impact on her.

Throwing caution to the wind after the dust of the final battle had settled had been an oxymoron of sorts for Hermione Granger. But that's exactly what it felt like she was doing when she and Ron found themselves at London, Gatwick with nothing but their passports and a muggle credit card on the 1st of September that year. Originally she had planned to take up McGongal's invitation to return to complete her studies. However at the last minute, Ron had convinced her instead of going to King's Cross to board the train, to head to Gatwick and board a plane. Any plane. It didn't matter where. It had all been rather surreal and the next thing she knew she was handing over her credit card in the lobby of Grand Hôtel du Palais Royal, Paris. They had stayed in Paris for six weeks, staying in 3 different hotels. Ron had a knack for getting them kicked out of hotels it seemed. In the beginning it had been because the guests in neighbouring rooms didn't appreciate the raucous sound of their lovemaking when he forgot to cast a silencio. Towards the end of their travels it was because the guests in the neighbouring rooms didn't appreciate the raucous sound of their arguing.

Hermione turned on the shower and held her hand under it to gauge the temperature. She hated sleeping when she was drenched in the cold sweat that accompanied her dreams. Leaving her gown pooled on the floor where it landed, she stepped under the warm water and allowed it to beat on the back of her shoulders, soothing her tired muscles. As she relaxed, she allowed her mind to drift aimlessly. She thought of Paris and how much she had loved their hotel room and realised she was a little disappointed that here in Berlin they had adjoining rooms rather than an actual shared suite. Although he did spend most of his time in her room and the rooms were next to each other so that was practically the same thing right? She thought of how much they had fought in the beginning, and while they still fought, they seemed to get on better between the arguments than in the beginning. It was odd, she marvelled, how it was almost the opposite to her experience of visiting European cities with Ron. She thought about the argument the night he had sliced his hand open. She still didn't know why she had given into that kiss. It wasn't that he was a bad kisser. He wasn't. His kisses ignited a fire deep in her and caused her to feel her sex dampen her knickers, making her feel brazen. It wasn't about his past. Not anymore. And it wasn't just that she didn't want to be another notch on the infamous bedpost of what the other girls in her Gryffindor dormitory had referred to as the 'Sexy Silver Trio' that consisted of the hottest of the Slytherin bad boys: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott. It wasn't just because she didn't want to jeopardise the case for the sake of a quick fuck-however satisfying that might turn out to be. If she really drilled down to the crux of the matter and allowed herself to identify the emotion she was feeling, it was about fear. Fear of throwing caution to the wind. She had done that before and look what happened.

But then she thought of the hurt she had seen in his eyes, albeit briefly, and she wondered if it would be just a quick fuck and whether he was likely to hurt her like Ron had.

Thinking about his eyes prompted thoughts of the other looks she had caught him giving her and the way her sex ached a little with unbridled arousal and felt the same desire build in her now.

She reached a hand down and teasingly ran her finger along her damp slit, moaning slightly as she flicked over her clit. She gently rolled it around under the pad of her finger, moaning a little more as the tingling increased. Feeling a little more daring, she added a little more pressure as she started to move in little circles, her left hand coming up to roll her nipple between her thumb and two fingers. She moaned, her speed increasing with her desire.

Draco rolled over and glanced at the clock on the bedside table, unaware of what had actually woken him from his dreamless sleep. 03:36. He listened for a moment, knowing his wand was next to the clock should he need it, trying to ascertain what had woken him. Hearing nothing, he closed his eyes.

In the next room, the shower went on and he felt the gentle rumble through the head of the bed as the water heated up. He tried to picture the layout of the hotel rooms in his mind and established that it was Granger who had decided, for whatever reason, to have a shower at this ungodly hour.

The sound of running water in the room next door was enough to stop him from going back to sleep. Eyes shut, his cock twitched as he thought of her naked in the shower. He tried to ignore his growing desire. For a moment, he wondered if his mind was taunting him. Then he heard it again, a little louder. His eyes opened and he listened. There was no mistaking it that time. He groaned and put the pillow over his head but it was futile. His cock throbbed at the sound. He removed the pillow from his head and clutched it to his chest, indecisively. Next door, in the shower, Hermione moaned again.

He threw the pillow across the room.

Then he thought wryly

_If you can't beat them, join them._


	14. Chapter 14

He unscrewed the cap of the Firewhiskey and poured a double measure into the tumbler before slamming the bottle down on the counter.

Glass in hand, he groused as he sat down on the couch next to her and felt the liquid burn the back of his throat as he took a large gulp.

Tumbling the glass in his hand, he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

Things had been awkward between them all day but he tried to push away intoxicating images of a very wet and very naked Hermione Granger in the shower, her delicate little fingers working away as she writhed under the water.

He shook his head in an attempt to make the haunting apparition leave his mind as it tugged on the fringes of his sanity. This case was getting to him and she wasn't exactly making his life any easier, however unconscious she might be to her effect on him.

Next to him, Hermione sat, eyes closed, her head leaned back, chestnut curls pouring like a waterfall over the back of the couch, hand gently massaging her forehead in an effort to soothe the migraine that threatened to take hold.

Malfoy finished his Firewhiskey and dropped the glass down onto the coffee table.

"Do you mind?" she winced next to him, opening her eyes to glower at him.

"Sorry" he muttered, picking up the file that sat open in front of them.

"Three Black Notices, all major cities, although the killer it seems has switched to ports, all female victims, all with the cause of death as Sectumsempra, all seemingly identical to the killing in London. Four victims in total. And not a single fucking lead" he complained, placing crime scene photos side by side, the Netherlands Black Notice in his hand.

"That is why I am sitting here with a migraine building, so please don't slam bottles and tumblers down on the tabletops" she muttered, eyes closing as she went back to nursing her head.

He stole a look at her and thought how tired she looked. This case was wearing them both down.

"Do you want a pain potion?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

She considered this a moment.

"No, it's the sort of migraine that requires sleep. Do you mind if we leave sorting out Rotterdam until tomorrow?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

He glanced at his wristwatch. It was 23:15.

"Yea, sounds like a good idea, it is rather late" he muttered, realising just how late it was. They had come back to her room to work on the case after dinner in the hotel restaurant to find a Ministry Owl tapping furiously at the window with a summons. The liaison had greeted them upon arrival with a case file and a Black Notice from Interpol. They had returned to her room after the short briefing.

"We better go to bed" he continued, pushing the papers back into the file.

Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she threw him a look that he instantly caught, realising what he had said.

"That's not what I meant" he quickly reassured her, watching her visibly relax.

She made to stand, but her eyes glassed over as dizziness overcame her and she lost her balance.

His years as a house-team seeker had honed his natural instincts and quick reflexes, and he caught her arm before she crashed down into the table, saving her from bodily injury.

"Hermione…" he started, concern apparent on his face. Her complexion quite ashen, her eyes half closed, she looked as though she wasn't entirely conscious.

He stood up to try and help her balance, and felt her tremble.

Lifting her up into his muscular arms and carried her bridal style to her bedroom, kicking the door that had been left ajar with his foot. Placing her down on the bed gently, he heard her whimper, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment.

"Malfoy?" she moaned, her voice barely audible. If he hadn't been on the edge of her bed, leaning down over her he might not have heard her.

He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her forehead.

"Go to sleep Granger"


	15. Chapter 15

Bustling about the room, emptying the dressers and pacing in and out of the two rooms of the suite, Hermione set about packing in preparation for their trip to Rotterdam. Having overslept due to the migraine that had knocked her near-unconscious last night, they were now running late.

"You should have woken me!" she cried exasperated, as she took items out of the last draw in her bedroom and brought them to the suitcase she had in the middle of the floor in the area that had been their workroom for the last month.

"You looked like fucking shit last night, Granger" he muttered, reading that day's edition of Spiegel he had procured from the lobby while she slept. "You clearly needed the extra 'beauty sleep'. He drawled sarcastically.

Actually, he was concerned she was making herself sick over the case. He was frustrated yes, but she was overworking herself into a state of sever enervation.

"Charming!" she hissed, aiming a balled up pair of socks at his head.

The socks hit their target and she smirked as he glared at her over the top of the newspaper.

"Seaker skills not on par today then?" she grinned, no malice in her eyes.

At least this didn't appear to be the start of another row, he thought, his expression turning to one of amusement.

The bill for this hotel would be considerably less, he thought as he made a mental note of the damaged items:

One mirror

Two glass tumblers

Four throw cushions

One vase (not Ming)

He had almost had a coronary on the spot when they checked out of the hotel in Paris and the clerk had handed him the bill. He could afford it, no question, he just hadn't realised how costly it was to have Granger as a travel companion. Thank Merlin and all the stars above for the Malfoy-Black vaults the sum of which rendered his Ministry pay cheque mere pocket change.

"We still have to book a hotel and its almost 9am!" she huffed, grabbing the laptop.

"You know you could do _something_ _useful_!" she cried, dropping it unceremoniously in his lap, the newspaper crumpling underneath it.

He glared at her back as she stormed off to the bathroom to gather her things.

" _Seriously_ ," he thought, opening the laptop up. " _How long can it take one girl to pack?!"_

A few taps and clicks later and he was staring at the google list, bracing himself for the reaction he had now come to expect.

"The Manhattan Hotel Rotterdam?" he called, his fingers poised over the button.

He heard her drop several items on the bathroom floor.

"No" she called out.

He scrolled down without question. She wouldn't tell him anyway he thought.

"Hilton Rotterdam?" he tried, waiting for her reply.

Silence.

"Hermione?..." he called, looking towards the bathroom. From his vantage point, he could see through the open door of her room and into the bathroom, where she stood with her hands gripped on the edge of the porcelain sink.

"Somewhere else" he just about heard her reply.

"Restaurant Hotel & Spa Savarin?" he called, watching to see her reaction. He saw her seem to relax, turning on the tap and splashing the icy water on her face. He waited while she patted her face dry with the little hand towel before coming into the room.

"Yea, that one is ok" she sighed, coming to sit next to him on the couch.

"Hermione…" he whispered, as she took the laptop to have a look at the little pictures that google offered. "Are you…" he began.

"I'm fine" she replied, cutting him off, eyes fixed on the screen.

"No" he pressed "you're not, but that wasn't what I was going to ask" he placed a hand on her forearm gently.

"What?" she asked, ignoring his hand, eyes still focused on the screen.

"Are you going to tell me…" he began, gently rubbing her arm.

"No" she whispered, still focused on the screen.

He half expected her to thrust the laptop back at him and resume her frenzied packing or bolt away at his touch and hide from him like she did the night of their second kiss. He stared at the hand she had healed. Silently she clicked and scrolled before pulling up the booking page. For a moment she hesitated, her fingers hovering above the keys. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she considered her next sentence.

"I want to" she whispered "If only because I realise on a conscious, rational, logical, not screaming-constant-rowing, level, that it isn't fair to not but…"

"Only tell me what you are comfortable telling me" he whispered "I am here for you if you need someone, but only tell me what you are comfortable with" his grey eyes clouding over with concern as she met his gaze with her chocolate brown orbs. Covering his hand with her own, she gave him a small grateful smile

"Thanks" she whispered.


	16. Chapter 16

The MLE technician walked them under the yellow POLITIE crime scene tape, pointing to the MLE Interpol liaison for the Netherlands. Normally sat at a desk in his small office at the Hague Ministry, the man looked uncomfortably around as he cleaned his glasses over at the the British Aurors from where he stood mingling with other officials. Blood congealed on the tarmac of the Waalhaven district footpath where the body of the muggle-born witch had been discovered. With the London, Paris and Berlin murders, the victims had been found in their homes in the capital cities, close to the Ministry buildings. The Rotterdam murders were different.

The first body had been found in an alleyway near the World Port Centre 2 weeks ago while they had been working on the case in Berlin. The second had been found at 04:37 that morning by a wizard cycling on his way to the city centre. The blatant disregard for the International Statute of Secrecy unnerved Hermione who seemed more ill at ease than her partner on first appearance.

Like with the Berlin murder, these witches had been found with threatening letters tucked into their robes. Hermione motioned to the technician who had escorted them to the scene as she bent down beside the body. Malfoy walked over to speak with the liaison while she worked. The technician nodded his ascent and Hermione used her wand to move the robes to one side to look at the deep gashes that cleaved the poor witches alabaster skin open, crimson tinges to the crisp white shirt she wore. She could understand Malfoy's reluctance to examine the body this close up. She had witnessed the effect looking at the crime scene photos of the victims had on him as they went over every case file repeatedly, trying to make headway on their joint assignment.

_It must be hard remaining objective when you have experiential context_ , she considered bitterly.

"It's almost like he wanted them to be found" she muttered, feeling a hand touch her shoulder. She looked up at Malfoy, who was looking down at the victim, eyes narrowed.

"I've got the files and copies of the letters they found. Quiet sinister really." he told her, turning away from the all too familiar effects of being hit with a Sectumsempra curse, the imagery of a corpse in a pool of blood next to a body of water a little too familiar.

Taking the hand he offered her, she stood and stretched to stave off the cramp building in her legs from crouching. He handed her the buff coloured file with its scarlet stamp: VERTROUWELIJK across the front. He watched as she scrutinised the letters. Metaphorical puzzle pieces were starting to come together in her mind and she bit her bottom lip in quiet contemplation. Whatever she was searching for clearly remained elusive as she pursed her lips and closed the file. They walked in silence toward the MLE apparition point, and headed back to their hotel.

Silently she took the stack of files out of her briefcase and began to lay out trace reports, crime scene photos and the letters across the floor of the seating area of her suite. Sensing her calculated cogitation, Malfoy went to the drinks cabinet above the mini bar and helped himself to a muggle whiskey. Not as good as Ogden's but it would do. Hermione was knelt on the floor and he tried to avoid the natural pull of his gaze as he stood behind her, watching her search for something.

Tentatively, she reached out her hand to touch her fingertips to one of the letters sent to the Berlin victim and as if grasping for a tangible link to a misty rumination, she pulled it towards her. She sat back on her heels and stared at the letter, the words coming into a new focus. He watched her grab the Black Notices and pull them hurriedly into a pile in her lap, her frenzied activity beginning to unsettle him.

Clutching the papers, she stood, faltering in her steps as she crashed down into the couch, spreading the papers on the coffee table. He could see her face and she looked ashen, tears welling in her eyes, their dam threatening to burst to pour forth unspoken trauma.

He drew close, concerned for the frantic witch in front of him, who looked grief stricken in a way he had not witnessed in anyone since the war.

Tears streaming down her face, she whispered.

"I know what he did"

* * *

**A/N:** I don't speak Dutch but google reliably informs me that VERTROUWELIJK is the Dutch for CONFIDENTIAL.


	17. Chapter 17

With trembling hands, she ran her fingers over the elegant cursive script of the killers penmanship on the copy of the letter he had sent the Berlin victim before she was murdered. From one line she had concluded what had occurred in the life of this poor witch before she was slaughtered with the Sectumsempra. Something had troubled her deeply from the start about the Black Notices and had been gnawing away at her from the moment they had first read the letters.

There was something she had been overlooking, that had a strange sense of familiarity for her. A vagueness that only troubled her in a tantalisingly abstract manner. It was something about seeing the victim's body that had triggered her cogitation making it all the more real for her.

When she read the line back in the hotel room, her perspective shifted slightly and she realised with a sense of overwhelming grief what had occurred and it disturbed her to her core. Malfoy followed her gaze to her fingers to see what she was unable to articulate in that moment as she struggled to come to terms with the realisation.

_I will make it as though you never existed._

He had assumed the killer meant this as an indication of the fact that he was going to kill her but even Malfoy now saw that wasn't what the killer was trying to convey. There was more to it. Concerned about the mental state of the witch who was coming emotionally undone before him, he placed a reassuring hand over her trembling one and gently squeezed her fingers.

"Tell me what you know" he said, softly, eyes imploring.

"He obliviated every single person who had ever know her. That's why no one is reporting these women missing and why they are unidentified. That's why we have been pulled in with Black Notices each time, because no one knows who they are: because he has obliviated every single person who knew them as though they never existed in the first place." she cried, unable to hold back the torrent of emotion, her hands coming to her face as she shook with unrelenting sobs. Pulling himself up from where he knelt beside her to the couch, he reached for her and gently lay back into the corner, holding her as she cried.

His head tried to process what she told him and his perspective on the case shifted slightly. This was far more sinister than what they had originally thought. His instinct had been that there was dark magic involved but he had never considered it was as simple as a memory charm that was employed by the killer. Somehow the idea of a murderous Gilderoy Lockhart sort was far more disturbing than a notion of a random executioner casting a Sectumsempra on an unsuspecting witch. This implied stalking of their lives as they systematically erased them from history, before casting a Sectumsempra and leaving them to bleed out where they lay, broken and contorted like forgotten rag dolls.

Malfoy quietly contemplated the fact that the last two had most certainly been left on display and the implications unsettled him. He hadn't verbalised his concerns to Hermione yet, unsure of how she would react to overt overtures of his ruminations. The killer had chosen the Sectumsempra for a reason. After all, if it was just a case of murdering the victims, he could have cast an Avada. No. This was about blood. They were muggle-born witches. Seeing the body, so close to the water today had triggered repressed memories and he had his own moment of clarity as he stood over Granger examining the body. His mind's eye flashed as though stood above Snape kneeling in the water, stopping him from bleeding to death, the memory unsettling him causing his reality to distort between past and present, and he felt a wave of nausea that seemed to settle in his throat as he bit back the rising bile. That's when it struck him that the killer wanted to literally drain the life and blood out of his victims. Drain them of their life force, and their magic that flowed through their veins with their blood. Their dirty blood. As he stroked the arm that he held, he felt the pad of his thumb graze over her scar, his heart aching for the trauma she would experience when she realised this too.

After what seemed like hours, her lamentation abated slightly, and her tears stopped flowing. His shirt was sodden but he paid it no mind as he soothingly stroked her hair. Sensing her slight movement, he sat them both up and she pulled back to look at him, unspoken gratitude in her eyes. He reached into his trouser pocket and took out a small pack of tissues he had with him, handing one to her which she accepted with a small smile of thanks.

Her tears dried, her demeanor a little calmer now, she took a deep breath.

"I did the same" she whispered forlornly, staring at her hands.

"What do you mean" he quietly replied, stroking her back in comfort.

"During the war" she began, not looking him in the eye as she felt him tense "we knew anyone connected to us was in danger."

He shifted, slightly uncomfortable, as memories of a troubled time came flooding in. He felt a sudden sense of foreboding as pieces started clicking together as she made her confession.

"It was the only way I could protect them from certain torture and death" she whispered, her emotion raw.

His mind flashed to her writhing helpless on the floor of the East Wing Drawing Room, her cacophonous screams reverberating around the darkened room and his protective grip tightened on her.

"I systematically removed a person from the lives of two people" she whispered, her voice breaking as tears threatened once more.

"Who?" he asked her, confusion etched across his brow as he tried to slot the last piece into place.

Turning to him, she finally met his gaze

"Me"


	18. Chapter 18

The steaming mug clutched in her hands, she sat staring out the window watching the raindrops as they formed little channels down the pane. She had moved to the little window seat when he had gone to make her a cup of tea and had yet to say another word since her agonising confession.

He sat patiently, waiting for her to elaborate, watching as she reached a hand out to touch the glass, tracing the a lone drop that fell like a tear before pooling and merging with a little river that made its way to the bottom.

She sighed and took a sip of her tea before moving to the coffee table where she placed the cup down before sitting cross legged on the carpet by his feet, tracing the little whirls of the wooden coffee table with her finger, her head slightly pressed against his knee. He looked down at her little figure and noted how she seemed to make herself small as if trying to hide herself from what she had done.

"We knew we were being followed. All of us. Umbridge, Yaxley, Runcorn, Travers….they we're following our every move, watching us at all times. We knew they would stop at nothing" her fingertips lightly grazed over her left forearm as she quietly spoke.

"Mum and Dad were in danger. If they came for them…." she choked back a sob.

"Grief is an inevitable part of life. An emotion we must all face someday. But it is even harder when you are grieving for someone who is still alive but doesn't remember who you were. That was something Ron never understood" she whispered, recalling the memory of one particularly spectacular row they had one night in Berlin.

"You never see things from my point of view! You aren't the only one who lost someone, Hermione! " he shouted, balling his fists.

"Grief is still grief, whether you lose someone physically or not, Ronald!" she retorted, tears threatening to break forth.

"I lost a brother, Hermione! A brother. You have no idea what that is like, and even my loss is nothing in comparison to what George lost! He quite literally lost half himself!" He paced frantically before pulling out his wand and hexing every item of furniture in their hotel room.

"I lost my parents Ron!" She screamed, tears streaming down her face, hair wild and frizzy.

"That isn't the same!" He bellowed, his face beetroot with rage. "They are out there, still alive."

"But they don't know me! I lost who I am! Who I was! A whole life gone!" she frantically wiped her eyes in a vain attempt to stem the flow of her tears.

"You have MY family and you have ME you know who you are Hermione!" He yelled, kicking the coffee table over, his rage having reached a frightening crescendo.

"It's not the same!" She sobbed, crumpling into a heap on the floor.

He stormed to the door of their room and opened it.

"Where are you going?"she cried, scrambling to her feet.

"OUT!" he bellowed before slamming the door so hard a picture fell from the wall as it shook, the glass of the frame smashing into pieces.

Climbing into bed fully clothed, the room in disarray, she cried herself to sleep and not for the first time because of Ron either.

.

"I had no choice" she quietly continued. "The only way to keep them safe was to make them forget me. To erase my existence from their lives. To make it as though I never existed" she shut her eyes at the painful memory as it assaulted her psyche. He reached down and stroked her hair in empathy. He knew something of the inner turmoil of following a course of action in order to protect one's parents. He knew the trauma of knowing the path you were on was only leading you further down the river of Styx, as you prepared to meet Hades himself. She leaned into his touch, accepting the comforting gesture, silent tears flowing down her pale cheeks.

"I am no better than the murderer himself" she whispered.

Malfoy's hand stilled and he got down on the floor beside her, tugging her into his lap. She resisted at first, refusing to look at him as he gently took hold of her chin. His eyes glazed over as he forced her to look at him.

"Do you know what Dumbledore said to me that night up on the Astronomy tower?" he whispered, his voice hoarse as he tried to stop himself breaking down at the memory of that fateful night.

She silently, almost imperceptibly, shook her head.

"You are no assassin" he whispered, holding her gaze. "We might have been on different sides of a line back then, but we were all forced down paths by others. Our lives were preordained from the start. You did what you had to do. You made an ultimate sacrifice for the greater good. You might not have given your physical life for the cause like bloody Saint Potter" no malice in his voice as he pressed on with his point "but you still gave your life. You are nothing like this psychopath Granger, you are no more murderer than I am assassin" he finished, touching his forehead to hers.

He remained on the floor with her in his lap until her tears subdued.

"I shall tell you something else for free, Granger" he said, as he pulled her to her feet some time later, an amused glint in his eyes as she frowned.

"If anyone is going to catch this killer it will be you, Miss Brightest Witch of Our Age" he smirked playfully, trying to lift her spirits.

She playfully punched his arm in return, his aim achieved.

"Prat" she grinned.


	19. Chapter 19

Quill in hand, he jotted his note to Blaise while Hermione took a long hot bubble bath at his insistence following their traumatic afternoon of raw emotion and soul-baring confessions.

_Working on a fucking frustrating case mate._

_No time for fun_

_DM_

He tied the note to the owl, gave it a treat and then watched it fly off into the night sky before settling down into the couch to write their interim report for Harry. He would fax it to London in the morning to the 'Department of Communications: Muggle Correspondence Division' knowing that with the time difference it would be on his desk by 9am. Since the war, the Ministry had made moves to integrate a little with Internal governments and high profile organisations such as the CIA in America, MI5 in Britain, Mosad in Israel and Interpol, the international crime fighting organisation. International communication between the classified departments and their muggle/wizard liaisons was still a sticking point. Granger often grumbled that they should be using something she called E-Mail to update their superiors as it was not feasible to send owls with information across continents and muggle post was too slow. So fax it was. Malfoy was quite used to sending faxes by now, having handled assignments as a Hit Wizard all over Europe and the Middle East over the last few years, it was only the laptop that befuddled him at times he thought, eyeing the infernal contraption suspiciously.

Some time later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in the complimentary robe that had been hanging on the back of the bathroom door, feeling a little more relaxed. She was humming to herself and casually rubbing her hair dry with the cream Egyptian cotton towel she had wrapped around her shoulders. She gave a start when she saw Malfoy, head back, report in lap, quill dropped onto the adjacent cushion, fast asleep. She hadn't expected him to wait while she lay languidly in the bath.

Making her way over to the couch she watched him silently, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths, features softened as he slept. He looked worn out. This case was getting them both down but she hoped now she had new information they might be able to make some headway into getting it solved. Contemplating whether to leave him be or wake him, she was momentarily indecisive. Just as she reached out having her decided to wake him, she heard him sigh and then let out a moan. Unsure if she had heard correctly she paused, waiting to hear if it came again.

"...Hermione" he moaned.

She gave a slight jump a knocked into his leg, causing him to stir.

"Hermione?" he quietly mumbled, stirring from his slumber, seemingly unaware he had called her by her given name.

"Um.." she started "you fell asleep, I was just about to wake you" she finished, stepping back as he stretched and then closed his files, leaving the paperwork on her coffee table.

She watched him as he rose, his cheeks a little flushed.

"Sorry" he mumbled "must have dozed off while you were in the bath" he glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost midnight now.

"You didn't have to wait up" she whispered "you should have gone to bed." He sensed the concern for him in her voice and marvelled how even at her lowest, she still thought of others.

"I just wanted to check you were ok" he told her softly, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Never better" she smiled, eyes twinkling.

"Goodnight" he said, hesitating for a moment, he then pressed a kiss to her temple, before heading to the door that separated their rooms"

She touched her fingers to where his lips had just been as she watched him leave the room and sighed. Part of her yearned for him for the sensual touches he comforted her with as much as the lusty desire that coursed through her veins igniting her passion. But she was still uncertain of doing so. As she climbed into bed, she thought of him the other side of the door and wondered about him saying her name earlier and what he had been dreaming about. She closed her eyes and fell into her own fitful sleep.

Next door, Malfoy growled in frustration at the awkwardness of it all. When she first woke him he wasn't sure if was still dreaming or not and was vaguely aware as his senses he had been dreaming of her in a ratty Slytherin top with no underwear, much to his surprise and delight as his dream self had lifted the hem of the top to discover. It was awkward and embarrassing and he felt like a teenager being caught with a copy of PlayWizard, his hand stuffed in his boxers.

He was just getting into bed when he heard a persistent tapping sound and was surprised to find an owl with a response from Blaise already.

He chuckled to himself before tossing the note on the bedside table

_All work and no play makes Draco a dull boy_

_BZ_


	20. Chapter 20

Screaming woke him from his hazy dreams of a curly haired witch with her head thrown back in passion, killing his erection instantaneously. Grabbing his wand, he leapt out of bed and was crashing through the adjoining door, fear etched on his face and adrenaline spiking, heightening his senses. He glanced round her room and found nothing out of place, the contrast of the silence that now filled the room deafening and confusing him.

Then she thrashed and flailed in her bed screaming again. Realising she was having a nightmare, he tossed his wand onto the bedside cabinet, climbing onto the bed behind her. He tugged her to him and attempted to calm her.

"Hermione"... he said her name softly, trying to coax her from her trauma, stroking her sweat covered face. "Hermione"

She whimpered in his arms as he soothed her.

"Hermione, it's ok, you're safe, I've got you" he told her gently.

She stirred, then feeling his arms, unsure of who held her, she started to struggle.

"Shush, it's me" he whispered, pulling her close.

"Malfoy?" she questioned, turning to face him.

"The one and only" he said, giving her a small smile "you were having a nightmare" he told her, stroking her hair.

"I'm sorry I woke you" she mumbled, a little embarrassed.

"Hey, no, you don't be sorry" he shushed her, continuing to stroke her hair, pulling her into his arms.

She closed her eyes, tears starting to form behind them, as she became aware of what her dream was about.

"Ok now?" he asked, concern in his voice.

She whimpered again and gave only one word by way of explanation as to the contents of her subconscious trauma

"Bella"

She felt him tense at the mention of his aunt's name, evidently recalling the same episode from their shared past. He held her as silent tears coated his chest. When he thought she had fallen back to sleep, he moved to get off the bed, but she clutched at him, eyes remaining shut. He stilled and looked down at her.

"Stay" she mumbled and he wasn't sure if it was a question or her vocalising a want.

He didn't move, trying to figure the best course of action. Concluding he would end up back in her anyway should the nightmares return, he lay back down on the bed and pulled the covers over them both, pressing a kiss to her hair.

.

Sunlight filtered through the curtain that ruffled gently in the morning breeze, warming her exposed shoulder, rousing her from a, thankfully, dreamless sleep. For a moment she had forgotten the events of the night before, and as her senses returned, she became aware the unmistakable feeling of an arm around her waist and the presence of someone underneath her. Confused about the identity of her bed fellow, she squinted and then gave a little yelp in surprise to find she was curled up against Malfoy, whose arm was holding her secure around her waist, her head rested on his chest.

Embarrassed as she recalled asking him to stay with her after she had woken from her nightmare and he had comforted her. Ron had always slept through her nightmares when they plagued her after the war and so she wasn't used to the comfort he gave her when her subconscious allowed old wounds to cleave open pouring forth a veritable Pandora's Box of emotions. It was as beautiful as it was unsettling. She gently tried to move from his embrace, but even in his deep slumber he pulled her closer in an attempt to still her movements, presumably his subconscious thinking she had fallen back into one of her nightmares. She puzzled at her predicament, biting her bottom lip, watching him in his sleep. An awareness of her now conscious state penetrating his stupor, his eyes remaining shut he mumbled

"Granger, stop watching me sleep"

She marvelled at his instincts for a moment before opening her mouth to speak.

At that moment a Ministry Owl came through the open window, interrupting her before she could begin.

Rising from the bed, Malfoy padded over to the dresser where the owl was perched waiting patiently for them to take the missive. Hermione was shocked to see he was only clad in a pair of designer boxers that left nothing to the imagination. She hadn't realised before and had assumed he had been wearing boxers. She was wearing an old vest top with spaghetti straps and bed shorts and this realisation made her flush as she realised there had been very little fabric between them as they slept in a tight embrace.

His back to her while he untied the official ribbon that denoted confidential correspondence, he smirked

"Like what you see, Granger?" he asked, chuckling to himself, aware that she was continuing to stare at his muscular body in his tight Hugo Boss boxers. She hid under the covers to hide her shame at being caught ogling him. Her mouth suddenly felt very parched and she was aware of a growing heat between her thighs.

Malfoy unfurled the note, a frown replacing his smirk as he read. All humour ceasing, he walked over to the bed and gently pulled back the covers. Looking up at him, she was confused at his expression as she had been expecting him to continue his teasing. He handed her the note.

"Pack you're bags Granger, it looks like we are headed to Italy".

She sat up and read the note for clarfication as he crossed into his own room leaving the adjoining door ajar

_Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger_

_Briefing at 9am. Black Notice from Italy. Body found in Venice._

_Aaldrik Aalders, Dutch Interpol Liaison_

Just before they headed out to the briefing Draco sent an owl of his own

_Looks like you get your wish_

_Cafe Florian, 4pm tomorrow_

_DM_


	21. Chapter 21

Sitting on the sofa, he stared at the screen while she settled herself on her bed. Looking up at her, he silently asked if she was ready with a raise of one perfect eyebrow.

Slowly she nodded.

"Ready"

"The first one on the list is Hotel NH Collection Venezia Palazzo Barocci" he glanced at her to see her close her eyes and shake her head.

"No." she whispered.

He scrolled down.

"Ok…..how about The Gritti Palace, Venice...looks rather beatiful, it's got…."

She cut him off.

"No" she muttered, hands clasped tight round a pillow she was clutching to her chest.

He scrolled down some more, searching without really knowing what he was to avoid or why.

"Well what about Baglioni Hotel Luna?" he asked, looking at her hopefully.

She smile at him, and he noted that was the first time she had smiled quite like that since the night she woke him screaming.

"Yes" she dropped the pillow to the bed and stood up.

"Sure?" he enquired, hand poised over the book icon.

"It has Luna in the name! Of course I would remember if I stayed their before" she chuckled, moving over to the dresser to start packing.

Malfoy watched her move, uncertain whether she was aware of the snippet of information that she had just unwittingly provided him with as to what the issue with booking hotels was. His calculating Slytherin mind working quickly, he piece together her behaviour when they fought, the way she swore at him in a multitude of languages and the resistance towards booking certain hotels. He thought back to when Harry had briefed him about the assignment and the way he had clearly wanted to tell him something about her. His mind rolled back further to the first meal he shared with Harry and Ginny one depressing Sunday when Harry had flood to Draco's apartment and found him staring at the wall drinking Firewhiskey, surrounded by empty bottles. Harry had sobered him up at taken him to Grimmauld Place and Ginny had fed him until he felt warm and full and loved. That was the beginning of their friendship, the thought as he reminisced. He remembered picking up a postcard from the French Rivera and asking her why Hermione was writing to her about a guy named Pierre. Ginny had laughed at Draco's assumption that he had been her beau.

" _The guy's 64!" she cried, laughing so hard she cried. He runs a cafe she visits every day"._

Ginny then told her Hermione was away. _Finding where she fits in life._ That was how she put it.

Like a wizard chess master his tactical mind analysed which route to take the conversation down.

"Granger?…" he started, eyes not leaving the screen as he casually scrolled through the pictures on the hotel website.

"Hmmm" came her reply as she busied herself with emptying the bottom draw of the dresser.

"Are you aware that when you are stressed you lapse into other languages?" he asked, stealing a sidelong glance at her while appearing engrossed in scrutinising the Facebook page for the hotel.

"Do I?" she asked nonchalantly, getting those flimsy little cream silk blouses out that drove his mind over the edge with desire out of the closet opposite her bed.

"Mmmhumm" he replied, trying not to think of how alluring they made her decolatage as he closed the laptop.

"Well I guess anything's possible in high pressure situations, especially since I happen to be fluent in most European languages" she continued moving about the room.

He watched her in silence, waiting for the right moment.

"And I had a Great Aunt who was Dutch but she always spoke English. My whole life English, so I didn't know she was Dutch. Until I was 9 and her sister died and she would be speaking to my Mum and would lapse into long tracts of Dutch and I wouldn't have a clue what she was saying." she continued her rambling as she tossed kitten heels into the suitcase and he tried not to think of her slender calves. His cock had other ideas.

"So what language do I lapse into when I am stressed then?" she asked, heading into the bathroom to grab her toiletries.

"All of them" he stated, matter of factly.

She screwed up her face in derision as she came out of the bathroom.

"Don't be ridiculous" she sighed, dumping the items in her arms onto the bed to sort through what she had used up and pack what remained.

"I'm not" he chuckled, "I've been keeping a list" and with that he pulled out said list and waved it at her.

"Give me that!" she scoffed, grabbing the parchment he was taunting her with, a smirk on his face.

English.

French.

Italian.

Spanish.

English.

Dutch.

English.

FERRET-OBVIOUSLY ENGLISH.

Farsi? NEW. NOT EUROPEAN.

Spanish.

Portuguese.

Italian.

Italian.

Italian.

English.

English.

Russian.

Russian.

Russian.

German.

Polish.

Parseltongue?! WTAF?

Italian.

Long speech in Italian. Thank Merlin she is nowhere near Blaise.

Silence. THANK MERLIN FOR THAT.

"When did you write that?!" she enquired, her eyes wide in amazement as she stared at the list.

"Paris. At the height of our rowing your ability to colourfully insult me in a multitude of languages was on par. We argued less in Berlin. Things have been different here." He casually explained, not wanting her to focus too much on the other night.

He thought back to then and his cock twitched rather inappropriately at the memory of a scantily clad Granger curled up tight against his bare chest as he comforted her. He swore he deserved an Order of Merlin, 1st Class for his restraint given the proximity and the lack of fabric between the two.

She scrutinised the parchment carefully, before handing it back to him and continuing with her packing.

"So…" he started "how come you are so fluent?" he asked, picking up the copy of De Profeet, the Dutch edition of The Prophet, that was on the coffee table.

"Oh you know me" she casually replied, "send me to a European city with a phrase book and I come home fluent" she chuckled, waving her hands theatrically.

He frowned. She was clearly avoiding something and he was no closer to figuring why she practically had an apoplectic fit when they looked at hotels.

"So if you know all those languages, you must have visited a lot of cities" he pressed, trying to find out more but hoping it wouldn't trigger a row.

"Mmmhumm" came her reply as she threw the last of her empty Lancôme bottles in the bin.

"When was that?" he casually asked, peering over the top of the newspaper.

"Oh after the war, I was going to go back to Hogwarts actually, but one minute I was at King's Cross Station and the next I was running to the tube station to catch the tube to Victoria so we could board the Gatwick Express" she was smiling at the memory.

" _Who is we?" h_ e quietly wondered.

She laughed "I had nothing with me because I had already put my trunk on the train, just my passport which I always carried with me for ID and a muggle credit card- luckily I had transferred most of my Gringgots savings including the money the Ministry gave me to my muggle bank which was set up to automatically pay off my credit card. And Ron said pick a flight any flight and we will get on it. The next thing I knew I was handing over my credit card to the receptionist at Grand Hôtel du Palais Royal!" she giggled, still unable to believe that she, Hermione Granger, planner of all the plans each time Harry and Ron found themselves fighting against the forces of evil, had just jumped on a plane with no plan. It had been liberating.

At the mention of Ron, Malfoy scowled, but it was the mention of the name of the hotel that caused the piece to slot into his mind. He thought back to the night round her house, before they left London and how she had dropped a plate in the kitchen, it smashing as it hit the flagstone flooring, the moment he called out the name of the hotel. With that one piece of information he knew enough to understand her emotional meltdowns and possibly why they had rowed more than in Paris than anywhere else.

She had been avoiding anywhere she had been with Weasley.

He put down the paper, watching her humming away to herself as she zipped up the suitcase, blissfully unaware that his Slytherin mind pieced it all together. Not wanting to spoil her mood by triggering more trauma for her, he pressed no further with that tact.

Standing up, he grabbed her suitcase for her and hauled it off the bed.

"There's just one thing I don't get though, Granger" he mused out loud as they walked out into the hallway, two suitcases in tow.

"Oh? What's that? She said, rumaging through her purse for the room key.

"How is it you know parseltounge?" he enquired, completely baffled as it was a very rare gift to be a parselmouth and he knew she wasn't one.

"Oh!" she muttered, slotting the card into the door and locking it "Harry talks in his sleep."

She walked the couple of yards to the elevator and pressed the button.

Malfoy remained rooted to the spot in stunned silence for a moment, before turning to Granger

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"


	22. Chapter 22

The cocophonus hustle and bustle of muggle tourists meandering around St Marks' square was silenced with a discrete tap of the wand and a non verbal silencio as they sat in the booth, Hermione sipping from a bottle of cool spring water as they waited for Blaise Zabini.

It was May and the heat had forced Hermione out of her normal business attire and into a sundress and light canvas pumps.

Having caught a flight at 9am, they had checked into their hotel and opted to take a break from the case that was taking it toll on the physical and emotional well-being of them both. They had lunch in the hotel restaurant and then Draco had let slip he had agreed to meet with his childhood friend in the later part of the afternoon. Malfoy had assumed she would want to spend the afternoon either settling into her hotel room or in one of the cities many tourist attractions.

He wasn't sure how he felt about it when Hermione announced she would join him and Blaise, but figured it would probably be ok given she was in her yoga pants and a comfortable t-shirt. He had wondered if maybe it wasn't such a good idea when she announced she would have a shower and change to get rid of the sticky just-got-off-the-plane feeling. He had decided it definitely wasn't a good idea when she had come out of the bathroom wearing the chiffon sundress that made those calves he so admired look positively delectable.

He had groused at her all day and his mood had got worse as the day wore on. Now he sat across from her in stony silence awaiting his friend and she was still unaware as to the reason for his mood.

Opening her mouth to speak, she was silenced by his nod towards the door. Turning in her seat, she watched the dark Italian wizard slaughter in through the door and make his way over to the counter. Unaware of their watchful eyes, Blaise leaned across the counter, and taking the hand of the young blonde woman who was serving the customers, he planted a kiss on her knuckles. Even from her vantage point at one end of the cafe she could see the young woman blush a deep shade of scarlet.

Hermione turned back to Draco, who had now caught the eye of his close friend and rolled her eyes in response to his behavior. Reaching their booth, the man practically threw himself into the seat next to Draco.

"Well well well, what do we have here? He chuckled "Even though I could only see the back of her head from the bar I knew. That hair is unmistakable and could only belong to one person" he laughed as she self consciously touched her hair, remembering the way the Slytherins would tease her as a child. She caught the look on Malfoy's face who was glaring at Blaise with more than a hint of malice.

"Hallo Granger" Blaise grinned, his eyes travelling from her hair to her ankles in a matter of seconds "I must say like a fine Merlot, you have improved with age!" he finished winking.

"And how are you, Draco?" he cried slapping him on the back theatrically.

"Blaise" he ground out, his old sneer coming back.

Hermione was uncertain for a moment, and then she caught the glint in Malfoy's eye and the two men laughed and greeted the other in a way that made her reminisce of Fred and George.

Turning to Hermione, Blaise greeted her for a second time in a far more gentile manner.

"You will have to forgive my sense of humour, bella donna, I do like to wind the Old Man up" he said with a wink.

"Less of the 'Old' if you don't mind Blaise" Draco complained.

The blonde from the bar came along and handed Blaise a tumbler of muggle whiskey, blushing shyly as he undressed her with his eyes.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the display as Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly

"What?!" Blaise asked, winking.

"Isn't it a bit early for whiskey?" he asked, eyeing the glass.

"It's never to early for anything when I am in town" he replied, winking at Hermione who blushed.

Malfoy quietly seethed.

.

Loosening his tie, he brought his paperwork into Hermione's room, claiming his seat for the duration from the furniture in the lounge part of her room. He opted for the left hand side of the couch that faced the balcony, affording him a view over St Mark's Square.

She had changed again and this time wore her bed shorts and the ratty little Griffindor top which fell just bellow the shorts so it appeared as though she only had the top on.

They had a briefing the following morning at the Italian Ministry whose offices were not in the capital city as in many other countries, but in Venice, to make it easier for the Wizarding community who were mostly located on the Isola di Sant'Erasmo. They had therefore agreed to spend a couple of hours collating where they were up to so far so that they could be prepared for the briefing.

Malfoy worked in silence as Hermione went about sorting her own files from her briefcase. Coming over to the coffee table, she placed her files down with a thud.

Malfoy looked up and gave her a look of incredulity.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she huffed, hands on her hips.

He turned his attention back to his paperwork.

"You've been in a mood all day!" she continued, determined to get a response. She had worked hard on getting a good working relationship with him, hell they had even become quasi-friends in the process and now he was ignoring her for no reason.

"Everything was fine until we left the hotel" she continued, growing impatient.

Still no response. He continued making notes.

Hand to her sleeve, she cast a non verbal silencio.

"ANSWER ME FERRET!" she yelled, cheeks flushed in fury.

"STOP FUCKING CALLING ME FERRET! Merlin, you get turned into a Ferret ONCE in your life, and that's ALL anyone fucking remembers!" he yelled, chucking his notes on the table, getting up from the couch and drawing himself up to his full height so he was looking down on her, a hairs breadth between them. She remained firm.

"What the fuck is your problem?" she cried, shoving his chest with the palms of her hands.

His seaker reflexes were on par tonight, and he reached out to grab her wrists before pulling them down by her sides.

"You" he hissed, glaring at her, before releasing her wrists with such force, as he stepped away from her that she tumbled onto the couch. He turned around to face her before she had righted herself and was momentarily greeted by her posterior in the air before she turned over on the couch. Pushing her curls away from where they had fallen across her face, she glared at him

"What have I done now?!" she hissed, her expression full of anger as she stood from the couch and went towards him.

He didn't answer.

Something about the way he looked at her quietened her and she thought of the way he looked at her in the elevator that morning when they left Rotterdam.

Her logical brain slotted in a piece of the puzzle.

"Oh my god" she quietly exclaimed, realisation dawning. "You're jealous" she whispered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Granger" he spat, his temper not yet subdued.

"Yes you are. That's why you were a prick in the cafe when Blaise was eying up my legs. Don't think I didn't notice what he did. And you have been a prick since this morning." she continued.

"I was so busy with checking out that I forgot to answer your question so you have been a complete prick all day." she pressed on, coming to where he stood by the wall.

"What, like when you were a complete bitch to me in Paris?" he questioned, not looking her in the eye.

"I wasn't a bitch" she muttered, a little incensed, before biting her lip in uncertainty.

"Yes you were" he replied quietly, looking at her now bruised lip.

"Ask me again." she said.

He wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

She stared at him, unmoving, unrelenting.

"How is it you can speak parseltongue" he asked, watching as she moved away to sit on the couch.

"Harry talks in his sleep" she said, matter of factly.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to ask the next question, the question he had asked her in the elevator that she had not answered.

"How do you know that?" he asked, coming to sit opposite her.

"Before the snatchers caught us" she started

"And brought you to the Manor" he grimaced, screwing up his eyes to the memory.

"We were on the run. We were staying in a tent. Not exactly much sound proofing in a tent. So all three of us are aware of each other's sleeping habits" she finished, giving him a small smile.

He waited for more information. None came.

"Is that it?!" his eyes widened at his own mistake.

"Fuck" he said as realisation washed over him.

"I have been a prick haven't I" he remarked, sitting back.

"Don't worry" she replied, picking up a quill, grinning.

"I'm used to it."


	23. Chapter 23

Slipping on her kitten heels as she stumbled across the room, Hermione grabbed her briefcase and knocked on the door between their suites.

"Come on, Malfoy!" she called with growing impatience "We're going to be late!" she glanced at her silver wristwatch, a present from Harry and Ginny for her 21st, and knocked repeatedly on the door, almost falling through it as Malfoy wrenched it open.

"Relax Granger, it's not even 8am and according to that infernal contraption it takes 10 minutes to walk to Fondaco dei Tedeschi from here and our briefing is at 9" he gruffed. He stepped back into the room and grabbed his tie from the back of one of the chairs dotted around the large circular table that was the room's main feature. She huffed and put her hands to her hips, her face contorted in a mix of frustration and fury. Malfoy casually undid his initial attempt at the Windsor knot and proceeded with his second attempt. Hermione lost her patience and stepped forward.

"Give it here!" she huffed, taking the two ends of the tie in her delicate hands. Her proximity afforded him a tantalising glimpse of her decolletage under her cream silk blouse. He fought to maintain his composure as she set to work tying the perfect knot.

"There" she murmured, smoothing down the tie against his chest, her palm grazing over his muscular pecs. He swallowed hard.

She looked up into his eyes, her warm honey gaze meeting his and neither said a word. Her palm still pressed to his chest she could feel his heartbeat, pounding like a drum under her touch. She licked her lips and he saw indecisiveness flicker across her eyes. He bent his head to capture her lip but as he felt her lip between his she pulled away. Rushing back to where their rooms divided, she grabbed her briefcase and headed towards his door.

"Come on" she whispered, "We can't be late." She looked over at him from the open doorway, confusion and a tinge of an emotion she couldn't quite place, mingling together across his features. Throwing him a small sweet smile, she stepped out into the hallway as he grabbed his own briefcase from the desk by the balcony doors.

"I don't know why you are so stressed about this briefing anyway" he huffed, locking the door with his key card. "It's not like we haven't done these before."

"This isn't just a briefing" she started, walking down the hallway to the elevator "This is a mid case review. Harry is getting an international portkey. The Interpol liaison, the Head Auror for Italy and 3 other MLE division heads will all be there." She listed them off on her fingers as they waited to make their descent to the lobby.

"But you've done these before as well, Granger" he said, pressing the button again with growing impatience.

"Not for a long time, not as a field agent. I've mostly been working in research. I'm out of practice and I lack confidence." She answered, gently curling her fingers round his wrist, moving his hand away in an attempt to get him to stop prodding the buttons.

"Have a little patience" she sighed.

"Pot, kettle and black" he smirked.

.

Across the square in Cafe Florian, the blonde waitress was speaking in rapid hushed voices with her elderly boss.

"Mio nonno non sta bene" she said, her cerulean eyes pleading as she looked up at him through her long dark lashes.

The elderly man rolled his eyes and waved her away, consenting to her request for the day off. She smiled, kissed him on the cheek and rushed out the door. Spying her beau casually leaning against one of the pillars, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the morning sun as it poured into the square, she skipped over to him and grabbed his hand, twirling as he gazed at her, an amused grin on his face.

"I told Sergio my Nonno is sick" she smiled, "Now we can spend the day together" she tugged him into the plaza, her eyes twinkling.

"Sly little minx" he smirked, as he pulled her in for a deep possessive kiss.

"What ever shall we do?" she asked him mockingly, lust in her eyes.

"I know a little place we can go mia bella" he huskily replied, his lips against that sweet decadent spot under her ear lobe.

Moments later, Blaise stood before the door to Draco's suite. Casually he checked up and down the hall, before touching his hand to the wand he had tucked safely out of sight in his pocket and non verbally casting an Alohomora. He chuckled to himself at Draco's tardiness. Working so long on this case, limited in his use of magic by Harry's insistence that they keep a low profile meant Draco had forgotten the basics and had left his room locked with the muggle key card but unwarded, making Blaise's break in light work.

He tugged his companion into the room, peppering kisses along her jaw line and neck as they discarded their clothes haphazardly on the way to the bedroom. Crashing lips and gasping their moans, they were a mess of limbs as they collapsed onto the luxurious bed. He had to hand it to Draco, he always was a man who enjoyed an opulent lifestyle and this suite was nothing short of divine.

.

Afternoon sunlight poured through the balcony, warming his skin and rousing him from his post coital slumber. Rising from the bed, he glanced at the alabaster skin of his bed fellow, his gaze working from her delicate ankle up to her exposed breast, settling on the blonde hair amassed on the pillow. Padding to the kichenette in the corner of the seating area, he set about pouring himself an espresso before rummaging around in the cupboards for a little something to accompany his coffee. He took the cup and two biscotti and made his way out onto the balcony where he stood in all his glory, admiring the view from Draco's room.

Casually sipping his espresso, he wondered if he should wake his companion for another round. As he crossed the threshold of the room, he heard the door to the suite open and was just about to grab his wand when he heard the husky moans and gasps of a couple in a passionate embrace. Perplexed, knowing the occupant of the room, he made his way to the doorway between the bedroom and the lounge and was shocked to see Draco and none other than Hermione Granger, in the throws of passion on the couch. He coughed to announce his presence and watched the couple amusedly as they ceased their ministrations instantly, staring confused at each other before turning in a slow synchronised movement to face him. He smirked.

"Biscotti anyone?"

* * *

**A/N:** For those who have read Welcome to Venice (which was written before I even had the idea for this story) this is the point at which they blend together. If you haven't read this story you do not have to, but it adds to it if you do and you will get to see this scene from H&D POV. This story picks up from the other side of the 3rd part of Welcome to Venice in Chapter 24. Please be kind in your reviews, this is my first attempt at writing a risqué scene! I have tried to keep the pace of the story going and the drama mixed with humour in the same way as previous chapters, so I hope these next chapters come over well. I am quite nervous!

I would like to take a moment to thank Torigingerfox for her help with the Italian! You are brilliant and these chapters have a dimension to them that is only possible with your help so thank you! I should probably also mention my poor sister who I have continually thrust my laptop at so she can check how the build up is coming but she flat out refuses to beta any smut so if that bad its all on me! I would also like to thank xxDustNight88 along with Torigingerfox who I have been fantastic when it comes to running through my ideas for the plot and the climax (pardon the pun) of the story. They are the main reason this I am able to update so frequently and this story probably wouldnt be as good as people are telling me it is without them :) xx


	24. Chapter 24

"I still can't believe he let himself into your room!" she sighed, bending over to pick up her briefcase from where it had been deposited along with her clothes and, it seem her dignity.

"I can" Draco replied, returning her notes to the little desk by the balcony. "Merlin woman! Are you trying to kill me?" he continued in mock exasperation.

"What?" she asked as she stood, turning to face him, confusion marring her brow.

"Bending over like that when I still have these" he replied, reaching into his pocket and taking out her lacy thong and twirling it round one finger.

Hermione blushed the deepest shade of crimson he had ever seen her turn.

"Give me those!" she cried, rushing forward to snatch them. His seeker reflexes sharp, he held them up out of her reach as she tried in vain to snatch them from his grasp.

He held them behind her back and so she snaked her arms round his waist in an attempt to prize them from his fist.

He took hold of the back of her neck as she fought him and for a moment she stilled. Then, lacy thong be damned, they were suddenly clutching at the other, lips crashing together as they poured the tension of the last two and a half months into one passionate embrace. She moaned as his tongue entered her mouth, and he deepened the kiss, feeling her lean into him. He picked her up by her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom. He quietly thanked Merlin for the fact that Blaise had the courtesy to cast a quick scourgify when he had vacated the room earlier as he deposited her on the bed. Removing his trousers, he kept his gaze fixed on her. He watched as she slowly undid the buttons of his shirt that she had thrown on when they had been interrupted by Blaise. She knelt on the bed before him. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing he had ever witnessed, he thought, as she slowly peeled the fabric away, tossing the shirt on the floor. He drank in everything about the moment before lacing his hands into her hair, pulling her into a heady kiss. Breaking away, he worked his way down her neck before stopping to take a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it as he nibbled and suckled. Her hands in his hair, she let out a throaty moan, her head lulling back as she cried out in passion. His hands were everywhere, attempting to feel every inch of her skin before settling on her behind, giving the two round orbs a squeeze.

He pushed her down onto the bed and peppered her honey coloured torso with kisses as he knelt between her legs. Coming back up to kiss her, he slipped a finger between her folds locating her little clit, feeling her shudder at his touch. He rolled it around with his finger as she moaned and writhed underneath him. She whimpered in frustration when he took his finger away and looking down at her, he smiled before capturing her lip as he slid a finger into her moist core. He added a second, his thumb coming up to rub her clit in little circles. She thrust into his touch as he curled his fingers to reach her sweet spot. Having ached for his touch for so long, she couldn't now, in this moment, understand why she had resisted so much. Expertly guiding her to her release, he watched as she came undone from his touch, crying out his given name as she climaxed. He pulled his fingers from her, admiring the way they glistened with her wetness. He looked at her and brought his fingers towards his mouth, but Hermione reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling his fingers to her own mouth. Her eyes never left his as she sucked them in.

He was momentarily dumbstruck by the highly erotic act before smirking at her and bringing his mouth to her ear, nibbling on her lobe.

"Fuck Granger" he growled "that was fucking hot!"

She moaned as he bit, sucked and licked his way down her shoulder, reaching out for his erection. She guided him to her slit, coating the tip in her wetness. Lifting her left leg up so his ankle was resting on his shoulder, he thrust painfully slowly into her, listening to her moan as he filled her up. He stilled himself, turning his head to kiss all around her delicious ankle, his thumb massaging the arch of her foot. Wrapping her ankle around the back of his head, he pulled out before thrusting back into her as she cried out. He picked up the pace as she thrust her hips to meet him and they soon found their rhythm. He watched as she brought her right hand to her folds and found her clit, rubbing it as he thrust deeply into her. Feeling her clench, he brought her left hand up to his mouth, kissing the inside of her wrist as she came undone a second time, climaxing around him, crying out his name. They had been building up to this moment since that first kiss in the Manor and it wasn't long before he found his own release, crying out her given name as he felt two and a half months of tension wash over him and ebb away. He collapsed by her side, and pulled her into a post coital embrace. Laying side by side they slowly kissed before drifting into a deep sleep.

.

His eyes fluttering open, he slowly became aware of her teasingly light touch as she traced little patterns in the groove between his hip and his V line as she peppered kisses on the inside of his thigh. She was sat between his legs, a smile across her face, as he watched her pink tongue dart out and slowly lick up towards his groin. He felt her wrap her fingers around the base of his erection and grasped the sheets with his hands. Her tongue flicked across the tip of his cock before she took him into her mouth, her tongue circling around the head. She slowly sucked him fully into her mouth until her lips were touching her fingers. His hands went to her hair and he ran his fingers through the curls as she carried out her ministrations. He moaned her name like a litany as she brought him to his release once more, drinking it down like a sweet nectar. Rising, she kissed up his torso, before reaching for the bottle of water on his bedside cabinet and taking a few sips.

He marvelled at her as she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.

"That was…." he whispered, pulling her into him.

"That was a thank you" she told him emphatically, her arm coming across his waist as she curled her body into his.

"What for?" he asked, confused, as he stroked her curls.

She sighed.

"For being so patient with me."

* * *

**A/N:** Ok so this was the start of the smut that I mentioned was coming up soon! I hope it came over well, as I said this was my first attempt! Don't worry though, H&D are not about to jump into bed at every given opportunity, they still have a killer to catch :)


	25. Chapter 25

The Ministry Owl flew in the open window and perched on the bedside cabinet waiting for Hermione and Draco to wake from their slumber. When this didn't occur within what the owl had deemed to be an appropriate length of time, it hooted loudly. Draco's eyes snapped open and he turned his head, glaring at the bird.

Shifting his sleeping lover across, he sat on the edge of the bed and snatched up the missive. The owl, taking umbrage at the slight, bit his finger before making its exit, smacking Draco's head with his wing for good measure.

"Fucker" he muttered, glaring at the note in his hand as he read.

"Well if you will piss it off of course it's gonna bite you" a muffled voice came from the bed.

He turned and pushed her curls away from her face, planting a kiss on her temple. "Hello beautiful, enjoy your sleep?" he murmured into her hair.

"Mmmhumm" she replied, her eyes still shut, a smile on her lips.

"Good" he whispered, kissing below her ear. "However, as much as I would love for us to stay in this bed, we need to get up. They've found another body" he stated, planting a final kiss on her cheek before rising and padding over to the closet, pulling out a fresh suit.

"What time is it?" she said, her eyes opening, her brainwaves kicking into work mode.

He glanced at his wristwatch. "A little after 8 am" he said, buttoning his shirt. He grabbed a tie and snapped up his collar.

"Here, let me do it" Hermione said, kneeling up on the bed, wrapping the sheet around her so it was tucked into itself under her arm.

He walked over to the bed and she reached out to knot his tie. He lifted a hand to her curls and ran his fingers through, playing with a fist full. She smiled up at him.

"There" she said, smugly satisfied, as she smoothed it down against his shirt. He leaned down and hesitated just before he touched his lips to hers.

"Will you run away this time?" he said, raising one eyebrow and smirking.

She smiled and shook her head in reply.

"Good" he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. She shivered.

He slowly captured her bottom lip, sucking on it gently before letting go and planting a firm kiss on her lips. He stepped away before she could react to his switch in pace.

"I don't think you're outfit is suitable for a crime scene though Granger, so you might want to change" he grinned, grabbing his jacket.

His hand to the door knob, he was just about to step into the seating area when the well aimed pillow collided with his head.

.

Bulbs flashed as Hermione approached the victim, the MLE medical examiner still working the body. She asked the examiner in flawless Italian whether she could take a look inside the victim's robes. The M.E nodded her ascent and using her wand, Hermione pulled the robe open. Taking an examination glove from the middle aged examiner, she snapped it on, her eyes narrowing at the sight of parchment in one of the inner pockets. Carefully removing it, she unfolded the letter. The penmanship was precise and the killer had clearly calculated every word written.

Draco stood off to one side talking in hushed voices with the Trace specialist watching Hermione as she crouched on the ground reading the killers words. His heart clenched at the sight, reminded of the night she broke down, her normally logical mind seeming to identify with the actions of a psychopath. His concern for her growing, he took the report from the specialist with a nod of thanks and approached his partner and touched her shoulder to signal his presence beside her.

"This letter is different" she muttered, looking up at his steely gaze. "We should get back and examine it properly. Do you have the reports?" she asked, standing up and taking the rust coloured files from him opening the Trace report and scanning the contents. She shut the file and they made their way past technicians in silence. He held the POLIZIA tape up and she ducked under before turning to him.

"There's something about the tone of that letter that is different. It's more sinister but…. I don't know how to explain it" she muttered, her forehead creasing with confusion.

"We can take a look when we get back" he told her, taking her hand in his as they approached the MLE apparition point. She was momentarily shocked by the gesture of public intimacy and looked up at him. His gaze fixed on the crime scene, he squeezed her hand in reassurance. The silent gesture was confirmation that while they would continue their working relationship professionally without their intimacy hindering the case, they were for all intents and purposes a couple now and he would display his concern for her appropriately. She smiled to herself.

Back at the hotel she opened her briefcase on the table in the seating area of her room and opened the files he had given her earlier. She retrieved the other letters from the files inside her briefcase and began placing the letters side by side in chronological order.

Draco poured two cups of espresso and placed on beside Hermione who was now hunched over the letters scrutinising them carefully. For a long time she said nothing as her mind worked overdrive, twisting and turning the different keys in the locks of her mind. Touching a hand out to the Rotterdam letter, she screwed up her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Draco's cock stirred at the imagery and he repressed his arousal that reminded him she was sexy when she was concentrating hard. She pulled out the Rotterdam crime scene photos and placed them next to the photos she had of the Venice murder. Finally she turned to Draco, her mind clicking the last lock open.

"This is more than about killing. This is about blood and look. Look how the bodies have been left. Outside in the open, battered and broken, their life force and magic drained" she said pointing to the photos. "Now with that in mind" she continued, touching her hand to the Rotterdam letters "read these again."

Draco scanned the letters trying to follow the path her logic took her down.

"There's something about the tone, the choice of words…" she quietly told him. "I don't think the letters are addressed to the victim" she finished, sitting back while he scanned the final letter.

"Well if they aren't addressed to the victim, who are they addressed to?" he asked, his eyes leaving the parchment to meet her gaze, waiting for her conclusion.

"That I haven't figured out" she sighed in frustration.

Draco glanced at his wristwatch and looked over at Hermione who was chewing thoughtfully on her quill. "You look shattered" he commented.

"Charming" she said, a small smirk playing on her lips as she wrote down her thoughts.

"No!" he chuckled, running his hand through his hair as he placed the file he had been reading on the coffee table in front of him "You know what I mean...that it's time to call it a day. It's nearly 6 and we are meeting Blaise for dinner and drinks in an hour" he continued, coming up behind her and running his hands over her shoulders, feeling the silk of her blouse underneath his fingertips causing an involuntary shudder.

"Ok, let me just finish getting this down, and then I shall go and quickly change" she replied, feeling him kiss the nape of her neck.

"Ok" he mumbled, his teeth grazing her skin seductively. She playfully pulled away causing him to emit a low growl of frustration and she pushed her chair back, hurrying to the bedroom to change.

A few moments later she came out of her room wearing a short black dress with a lace bodice that was cut at the shoulders leaving her honey kissed arms uncovered. His cock twitched and his eyes glazed over with arousal.

"I don't think so Hermione" he told her and she glared at him.

"What?!" she cried "Just because you're my boyfriend does not mean you can tell me what to wear! I got this dress in Paris and this is the first opportunity I have had to wear it. Who are you to tell me I cannot?!" she ranted, cheeks flushing with fury.

He sighed.

"We are going out for drinks with BLAISE" he told her firmly.

"There is no way I am letting him see you dressed like that!"


	26. Chapter 26

He admired her luscious legs as she made her way from her companions to the ladies room. The cut of her dress was divine he thought as his gaze fixed on her wiggling posterior, bringing the tumbler up to his lips and sipping the honey coloured liquid that warmed his throat as it went down. Losing her in the crowd, he turned and smirked at the seething look on the face of the young woman's boyfriend as he stood next to him at the bar.

Draco looked positively murderous as he glared at his best friend.

"Fucking quit looking at my girlfriend like that Blaise" he ground out, angered at the predictable reaction that the dress she had chosen had elicited from Blaise.

Hermione had called him a chauvinistic prick in at least four different languages when he had suggested….alright, demanded that she put on something less _provocative_. Preferably something along the lines of the baggy oversized threadbare jumpers and tired jeans that she had worn in school. In this dress he noted she had curves to die for, the likes of which he would never have guessed in school she had. The dress was even more seductive than her business attire that drove his mind down into the gutter when left to wander unchecked. She had opted for high heels for height, knowing that she would be with two towering figures for the evening. Had she left the bedroom in kitten heels he would have owled Blaise ' _Not tonight dear, I have a headache'_ and removed that dress with his teeth.

"Calm down Draco" the dark wizard chuckled "You've marked your territory quite literally as well as figuratively" he finished, downing the last of his drink, glancing at Draco's confused expression.

"She has a lovebite on her neck under her ear" he told him, grinning as he motioned for the bar-tender to refill their glasses. With her hair down, Draco hadn't noticed and the fact that Blaise had spotted it was a little unsettling.

"What happened to Bianca?" Draco asked, turning the attention away from his girlfriend's slender neck to Blaise's cavalier love life.

Blaise stilled his hand, his glass raised to his mouth and for a brief moment Draco thought he saw a hint of sadness flutter across his face.

"Married" he responded, bitterness just touching his voice, telling Draco in one word all that he needed to know. He had been into the woman he had his most recent fling with but she had returned to her husband forcing him to move on.

"And Fiorella? Or was it Fiorenza?" he asked, inquiring about the blonde Blaise had been in bed with when he had finally brought down the last of Hermione's walls of resistance. Blaise chuckled at the memory of the poor girl making her exit.

"Unlikely to return my call" he laughed, taking a sip of his drink.

Hermione returned and slipped her hand into Draco's pocket giving him a sly look before turning her attention to Blaise, engaging him in small talk about what he had been up to since school. He told her he spent most of his time in Italy as he had a villa on Sant' Erasmo as well as his apartment near the Palazzo Savorgnan in the Città Metropolitana di Venezia-the metropolitan city.

"It's funny" she remarked, "I visited Venice a few years ago and while I was staying here Ginny came out for a long weekend and she could have sworn she saw you!" she laughed, remembering how Ron had thought Ginny was _'completely boggled'_ as he put it.

"She did" he told her "I was crossing St Mark's and she was coming out of Cafe Florian, a drink in her hand, and as she lifted her sunglasses from her head she stopped, stared and shook her head in disbelief. By the time I had crossed the square she had vanished" he chuckled at the memory.

"Isn't it funny how you can go across the world and bump into someone you know, or be somewhere totally unaware that someone you know is in the next room" Hermione mused.

"We probably crossed paths many times without realising it" Blaise agreed, smiling. He genuinely liked Hermione. Having left England after the London Trials and spending so much time in the vibrant city that the muggle community had created here he had moved on from Pureblood Elitist ideology. With his Mother long dead and no one to influence his political thinking, he had allowed himself to formulate his own ideas and sense of morals-loose as they were and one particular friend had softened his thoughts on blood purity. Blaise turned his attention to attempting to signal the now busy bar tender and Hermione felt Draco lightly brush her hair away from his ear, briefly admiring the mark there.

"How come you didn't cover this with a glamour?" he whispered before planting a kiss over it.

"I thought you wanted Blaise to know I was off limits." she replied, a glint in her eyes.

"How very Slytherin of you dear" he murmured, before kissing her again. "Oh, by the way, I am aware of what you slipped into my pocket, you little minx, and just so we are clear we are getting out of here as soon as the opportunity affords and you are getting it." He punctuated the last four words with nips to her ear.

She smiled at the reaction she had banked on, as Blaise turned back to the couple.

"Good" she replied.


	27. Chapter 27

Feeling the cold, his eyes slowly opened and he rolled over in the bed. Reaching across the sheets, he was surprised to find himself alone. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock. 3:46am. Sitting up, he swung his legs off the bed and reached for his boxers which lay discarded with the rest of their clothes on the floor. Pulling them on as he made his way to the lounge area of his suite, he was puzzled and a little perturbed to find Hermione at the table, reading the letters. He padded over to her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck.

"Hermione, it's quarter to four in the morning, come back to bed" he murmured.

"It was bothering me and I couldn't sleep" she sighed, relaxing into his touch. "I just feel like I am missing something still" she said, reaching her hand to his hair and tugging it gently, pulling him closer to where she needed him.

"Whatever it is, it will still be there in the morning. You will make yourself ill working this hard" he told her, pulling her to her feet.

She melted into his touch as he pulled her into an embrace, his kisses slow and sensuous and his nipped, licked and sucked. A moan escaped her lips as he lingered on her collarbone and she allowed him to slowly pull her back towards his bed.

He lay her down trailing kisses along her torso, pausing as she pulled off the little vest she liked to sleep in. He slipped a hand inside her shorts and moaned into her skin as he felt the heat of her arousal. His finger quickly found her nub and she sighed with pleasure under his touch. Kissing her navel, he paused again to remove her shorts, laving the soft skin of her legs as he went. She spread her legs for him wantonly as she tugged his plantinum blonde hair. He smirked at her as she signalled her desires and he was all too ready to comply. With both his thumbs, he opened her up as though he was slowly ripping open a ripe peach. She gasped, drawing in her breath deeply, as he admired her salacious beauty. Blowing lightly on her clit, his eyes glazed over with lust as he watched how it reacted, listening to her guttural moan.

"Please, Draco" she begged, tugging at his hair between her fingers.

He flattened his tongue to her core, licking slowly the length of her slit, before flicking the tip of his tongue over her clit. She cried out and dragged him deeper into her, writhing under his ministrations. He slid two fingers into her, curling them up to meet that sweet spot and felt her hips buck to meet him. She came undone, shuddering deeply as she rode the waves of her climax, calling his name. He smiled, and she watched with lust filled eyes as he licked his fingers in satisfaction, enjoying the taste of her in his mouth. Her hand still in his hair, she pulled him down, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, moaning as she tasted herself on him. Kissing her deeply as he penetrated her core, he thrust into her searching for his own release. She threw her head back in abandon and he nipped and sucked at her neck. Wrapping her leg around his waist, she pulled him in deeper and he marvelled at her abandon. He felt her clench around him and he increased his pace as they shuddered to a climax together, moaning the other's name. He stilled, dropping his forehead to hers, sweat mingling. Reaching for his wand, she cast a quick scourgify before he crashed down on his side of the bed, pulling her with him. Tracing little circles on his chest, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

.

Her eyes fluttering open, she felt his arm around her waist, his head buried in her neck and smiled to herself as she pressed her back into him. Sensing her movement in his sleep, he pulled her closer, possessively. She idly stroked his arm as she glanced at the clock. 7:20am. They really should get up she thought as she reminisced over last nights activities. Having left Blaise at 10pm, they had quickly made their way back to the hotel where he had swiftly pulled out her black lace thong from his pocket.

" _I thought you might like a present by way of apology for not backing down over the dress" she giggled as he growled at her._

" _Bedroom, Granger. Now." he commanded and she willingly complied._

As if sensing her thoughts, Draco murmured against her neck.

"Last night was fantastic. But knickers on around Blaise in future, Granger"

.

Hermione sat chewing her quill, hunched over the photos, her face screwed up thoughtfully. Scribbling down thoughts as they formed in her mind, crossing thoughts out and re writing them as her mind played with the pieces of the puzzle, she tried to work out what she was missing. With a sigh, she put the quill down and got up, deciding to take a stroll. She jotted a quick note for Draco to find once he was done in the shower.

_Gone up to the roof._

_Hermione_

Up on the rooftop terrace, she sighed, bracing her hands on the stone of the balustrade as she contemplated the view of the Grand Canal. Lost in thought she had no idea how long she had been up there before she felt a presence behind her. She smiled as he thread his hands around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I just can't grasp what I am missing" she said quietly. "It's like it's right in front of me but I can't quite see it, like a misty dream that you can't quite remember when you wake." she continued. He pressed a kiss to her temple and she smiled.

"What time is it anyway?" she asked, "I forgot to put my watch on" she explained and he glanced at his own timepiece.

"Just after 9" he replied his chin coming to rest once again on her shoulder.

Their reverie was broken by the hooting of a Ministry Owl as it came to land on the stone balustrade. Hermione pulled away to undo the parchment, eyes narrowing as she read.

"Another body." she muttered "Sant'Erasmo." She handed him the note and he frowned as he read before looking up startled.

"Orto Di Venezia?" He said, eyes wide.

Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"That's Blaise's villa!"

* * *

**A/N:** Although all the hotels I have mentioned in this fic and R for Ronald are real, I take some licence over how the rooms are laid out. However, the rooftop terrace of this hotel really does exist and thanks to Google Maps I know what the views from it are! Also Orto Di Venezia is a real Villa on Sant'Erasmo but the description I give of it in the next chapter is how I imagine Blaise would have designed it to look like. Sant'Erasmo is known as the countryside of Venice because it is sparsely populated, meaning the landscape isnt as urban. I like to think that actually its warded so that muggles cant see it, so maybe it only appears to be a run down villa to us because of Blaise's wards ;)


	28. Chapter 28

Blaise looked shell shocked as they approached him, ducking under the crime scene tape. Working murder cases was hard enough when you were a trained professional but waking up to find a body on your own estate was something, Hermione thought, no one could prepare you for. On top of that, having your best friend interview you to rule you out as a suspect was not an experience she would relish being a party to.

She watched as Draco reached out to give him a squeeze on his shoulder. She smiled at him sympathetically as the pair who shared a fraternal bond walked towards the Villa before making her way to where the medical examiner was hunched over the body. Sensing Hermione's question before she asked it, the middle aged woman smiled and gestured her permission for Hermione to retrieve the letter. This letter had been dropped casually on the torso of the young woman who lay splayed on the lawn of the Villa in a pool of congealing blood. It was almost as if the killer had left it as an after-thought.

She stood to read the parchment and was interrupted by the Trace specialist who handed her the rust coloured file that contained the report and the crime scene photos and smiling gave her thanks before turning and making her way over to the Villa.

"Hello Missy" started the house elf who stood wringing her hands at the open front door "I am Binny the house elf. Master Blaise and Mister Malfoy are in the drawing room and said I should be showing you in when you is arriving" she hurried out, motioning for Hermione to follow.

"Thank you Binny" Hermione smiled at the elf, following her into the open plan reception room and under an archway into the drawing room. Draco was sat in a wing back chair, while Blaise stood at the drinks cabinet in the corner pouring himself a large Firewhiskey. It was an uncomfortable interview and by the end Draco and Blaise both looked truly awful.

"Binny" Blaise called when they were finally done. She appeared instantaneously.

"Can you prepare a light meal for us, please? He asked "We shall eat out on the terrace"

The house elf disappeared and Blaise motioned for Draco and Hermione to follow him out to the rear of the house where the large open plan lounge opened up on to a sun terrace with steps leading down to beautifully manicured formal gardens to the West and down to a dock on the East . Hermione thought it was exceptionally stunning. They sat at the table and Blaise explained to Hermione how the Villa had belonged to his mother and had become his when she passed away. He now divided his time between Italy and England, staying here for the most part and his apartment in the district of Cannaregio when he needed to be closer to the Ministry or more urban night life. Binny returned with a light antipasto and the three casually engaged in idle chit chat. It was a welcome break from the emotionally wrangling conversation that had taken place indoors.

Sipping the cool lemonade Binny had brought her, Hermione admired the beautiful estate. Opening her mouth she was just about to ask Blaise a question when a cough from behind her interrupted her. Draco's face contorted into the familiar sneer she had all too often bore witness to as an adolescent and she turned around in her chair to see the recipient of his callous look.

Her jaw fell open.

"Hello Hermione"

* * *

**A/N:** Cannaregio is the northernmost of the six historic sestieri of Venice. It is the second largest sestiere by land area and the largest by population. This part of the city is quite historic and some of it makes me think of Diagon Alley. I see Blaise owning a traditional, historic luxury apartment rather than a contemporary one and this is the part of the city I picture the Ministry because its not as touristy as San Marco while still being in easy reach of the night life. WIkipedia informs me there is a casino... yea I picture Blaise there A LOT! ;)


	29. Chapter 29

No one spoke and the silence was oddly deafening. The sneer on Draco's face twisted deeper and Hermione put down her napkin before standing. Unsure of how to react, she continued to stare at him in silence. Suddenly a voice Hermione recognised called out from the house and she threw him a look of incredulity laced with shock, before turning to Draco who looked aghast, rounding on Blaise.

"What the actual FUCK?" he raged, banging his fist on the table "What the hell is going on? I just interviewed you as part of an on-going MURDER investigation for fuck sake!"

The voice called out again "Seriously, Ron, what the fuck are all those people doing out on the lawn? I have a dinner party this evening! I cannot have people traipsing about all over the place!"

"Out here, Pans'" Ron called without taking his eyes of Hermione.

"I think I need a drink" muttered Hermione, sitting herself back down as her mind tried to process the surreality of the situation that was unfolding. She couldn't help but feel her world was spinning out of control at this moment. Pansy came storming out onto the terrace. Seeing the motley group around the table she ground to a halt in stunned silence as if she had been hit with the Petrificus Totalus. Spying her former lover and childhood friend she cried out in delight

"DRACO! How are you? What on earth are you doing here?" she threw her hands in the air dramatically before turning to Hermione "Granger? Wow, haven't you changed"

Sensing the tone laced with a trace of hostility and dripping with sarcasm, Hermione gave her a taut smile as she watched her take a seat next to her boyfriend.

"I might ask you the same thing, Pansy" Draco ground out, his gazed fixed firmly on Weasel.

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Ok, Draco, calm down, they haven't been here, they have been in Cannaregio and before that they were in Morrocco" Hermione's eyes widened at the revelation "Pansy, the people on the lawn are MLE crime scene technicians, there has been a murder" he continued as Pansy's mouth dropped open in shock. "Ron, sit down you're making the place look untidy" he finished, waving at the vacant chair to his right.

Noting this chair was to the left of Hermione, Draco stood up, striding towards her.

"I don't think so" Draco sneered.

"Draco, sit down, you are being ridiculous" Hermione sighed, looking directly at Blaise "I think you have some explaining to do."

"No. Let me explain, 'Mione" Ron said, turning to face her.

"Fuck off, Weasel" Draco spat, not making any moves to follow Hermione's directions.

"NO YOU FUCK OFF FERRET!" roared Ronald, his cheeks scarlet, nostrils flaring.

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME FERRET!" Draco yelled, looking ready to kill.

Hermione rolled her eyes and touched her wand casting a silencio.

"Right, now I am going to speak and you are all going to listen. I don't want to hear another raised voice. Draco and I are in the middle of an investigation and neither of us has the time, or frankly the patience for any more fighting. You are going to behave like grown ups all of you. Ronald, go indoors, I will be in shortly. Blaise, you are going to speak to Draco and tell him why you didn't feel it necessary to inform either of us as your friends or as investigators of your house guests. Draco, stop looking at me like that. You and I can talk about this later."

She spoke with such severity that no one questioned her as she cast the counter-charm. As she followed Ron into the house, Pansy turned to Draco, smirking.

"Quiet the little ball buster isn't she?"

Ron sat down in one of the wingback chairs as Hermione settled herself on the couch. He ran his hand through his hair giving her an impish grin.

"I am not entirely sure where to start" he said.

"How about after you left the letter on my kitchen table" she said, her tone even.

Ron blushed "Yea, that was pretty cowardly of me wasn't it" he sighed. "We just….I…." he huffed "You know we we're able to make it work" he muttered, looking at the floor.

"No, but I deserved more than a _Dear John_ " she responded.

"I know. But everything was a mess and I thought I was hurting you so I just left. For whatever it's worth I'm sorry" he smiled shyly.

"Forget it, it's dealt with. But what happened between that day and today" she asked, eyes searching for answers he held back.

"After I left, I went back to Paris. I took an apartment, got a job in a muggle cafe and had a little fun. One night I got into this fight outside a club because some guys wouldn't leave this girl alone. Sort of knight to the rescue thing" he chuckled "the girl turned out to be Pansy. She had been bumming around like us only she had been getting into all sorts of trouble and was hooked on some muggle drug called cocaine. I took her back to my apartment because, well, this might be Pansy Parkinson, daughter of a death eater, but this was Pansy Parkinson who we went to school with and she needed help." he gave her smile and shrugged his shoulders before continuing "I helped her get clean, sorted out a few things for her and then the lease on my apartment ended and we both wanted out of Paris. We had both done Europe and she needed a clean break. So we pretty much put a pin in a map and it landed on Morocco. We stayed there for 3 years, made a few friends and we go back every now and then to visit." he explained. Hermione was still confused.

"But that doesn't explain Blaise or here" she said, shaking her head.

"Well I couldn't get Pansy Parkinson clean on my own could I" he scoffed "I couldn't go to Harry because he and bloody Malfoy were in the Middle East and Ginny couldn't even contact them so how was I supposed to?" Hermione's mind whirred

_Draco was in the Middle East? When?_

Ron continued his narrative "and for obvious reasons I couldn't turn to you. So that only left me with one option. I went into her purse, found her address book and owled Blaise. When we left Morocco he suggested we come here and we've been here ever since. It's better for Pans' than London, ya know. The island is warded, so muggles think it's basically uninhabited so it's quiet. No societal pressure from the old Pureblood families who still hold on to their way of thinking after everything." he sighed.

"So you have been in Morocco?" Hermione asked

"Yea, been there since Christmas, as Pans' finds that a difficult time and Blaise was at the Manor with Theo and Malfoy."

The way Ron spat Draco's name made her grimace.

"We got back Monday, and we've been at Blaise's apartment at the Palazzo Savorgnan" he finished, sitting back.

Hermione chewed her bottom lip.

"There's something you should know" she said, her voice low.

"Blaise already told me." he replied holding her gaze. "I can't say I am happy, I was bloody livid when he told me, but he said you're good for each other and Harry has been working with him for years, Ginny has him round for dinner, Pansy spent her childhood with him…. I dunno…" he trailed off.

Hermione didn't know what to say. She had expected hexs to be thrown left right and centre and she had an odd sense of foreboding, like the calm before the storm.

"Besides" he chuckled "Pans'd rip my blood head off if I did anything to bloody Draco sodding Malfoy and I'd quite like her to keep her temper cool in her condition" he finished.

Hermione stared at him confounded

"She's pregnant."

* * *

**A/N:** Palazzo Savorgnan is a vast, baroque palazzo with four floors. Its façade is on the Canale di Cannaregio. Apparently its a school, but in my head, this is where Blaise's apartment is ;)


	30. Chapter 30

"Do we have to talk about this right now?" she muttered, frustration laced in her tone.

"But PANSY! Pregnant! I mean….I actually have no other words" he stated, pacing back and forth.

"Good. Then we don't have to talk about it" she muttered, focusing on the reports.

"I mean, it's Pansy! With a kid!" he continued, clearly having found some words, much to Hermione's consternation.

"And with WEASEL!..."

"Look, I get she was your childhood sweetheart" she started, putting the quill down and turning to face him.

Draco snorted derisively.

"Ok, your childhood _friend_ , and I get that you have had a rivalry with Ron since you were 11, but he is still my friend and he was clearly there for her when she needed someone so you are just going to have to get over it. This could be good for her" she finished, not sure if she even believed the last point she had made.

Hermione picked up her quill and started going through the Trace report and crime scene photos, her mind ticking over.

"What are your thoughts about Blaise" she inquired as she made notes on her parchment.

"That he is a fucking wanker and I cannot understand why he said nothing." he stated.

Hermione scowled at him. "About the interview. And he said nothing because he was protecting his friend. His pregnant friend" she retorted, growing more than a little tired of his childish behaviour.

He sat down on the chair next to her sighing as he brought his head to his hands, tugging his plantinum locks in frustration. "This is my friend, Hermione. The man is practically my brother. Blaise and Theo are like my brothers. If you are asking me if I trust him, the answer is with my life and my girlfriend so long as she has knickers on and doesn't show off her legs" he grinned at her frown, as he tried to deflect with humour. "If you are asking me if I think he is capable of murder, then yes, under the right circumstances yes he is" he murmured, remembering the war. "If you are asking me do I think he killed the woman found on his estate or the other women, then no, Hermione. That isn't him, he couldn't do that." he met her eyes and she saw the pain in his.

"Do you….do you think if it wasn't your friend….." she whispered, searching his eyes for what he believed unable to ask the question out right.

"Do I think I would be so sure if it was an ordinary citizen?" he pondered this. "There is means, but there is no motive. He doesn't feel animosity towards muggle-borns. it doesn't matter whether I would be sure about anyone else, what matter's is that I am sure about Blaise." he finished, letting out a sigh.

"Ron mentioned something earlier" she started

"I fucking knew he would! If he's upset you, I will hex him into oblivion Hermione, I swear to Salazaar." He vowed, his concern resonating deeply with her.

"Relax" she smiled, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I mean it, Hermione" he stated taking her hand in his and clasping his hands together.

"He didn't upset me" she promised "actually, he just happened to mention that you and Harry had been in the Middle East." she told him.

He stroked her hand with his thumb. "Yea, Harry and I were sent over there originally together, then I went back as my first lead assignment. Avery had escaped at the end of the war and headed over there. When the muggle community got drawn into a war, there was a power vacuum and the Ministry had intelligence to suggest he was attempting to recruit dark wizards. I was part of a task force as part of a joint Muggle/Wizard black on black operation. It was a specialist unit of the GCHQ in London. Intelligence was passed directly to the unit via an agent who handled an informant. Research handled the intelligence and filtered through confirmed information and then we raided bunkers of dark wizards. No one knew who the informant or the handler were though, that was kept classified above Top Secret. Only the head of Mi5, Harry and Kingsley knew."

Hermione visibly paled and he realised with concern she was trembling.

"I know who the informant was." she whispered, her eyes wide.

He stared at her dumbfounded.

"How can you?" he asked.

"I was the agent who was her handler"


	31. Chapter 31

He stared at her.

"Wait. You were in the Middle East? But I thought you worked in research before this assignment" he said, trying to make the pieces fit in his mind.

"I was. But I am also a trained field agent. It wasn't planned out, it just happened this way. I was working at Camp Taji from 2001-2004 mostly in research, but I had the odd field assignment to keep me sharp. It was Harry's idea. During 2002 I was undercover in Shorjar, just outside the Green Zone. Everything was in political turmoil. I befriended the wizarding family who lived in the apartment next to mine. The eldest daughter became my informant." Hermione explained, as Draco sat in stunned silence.

"I was in the Green Zone in 2002. Harry mentioned you were in the Middle East, I just didn't know what you were doing or where you were stationed" he said, eyes widening "Wow" he muttered.

Hermione continued "Najwa was providing us information on a dark wizard who was trying to recruit other dark wizards. I passed information back to my supervisor who then passed it to the research team and that's how you were provided your assignments" she told him, watching as he mentally slotted the information into place.

"The information we were passed was about Avery" he stated, the picture in his mind coming into focus.

"Yes" Hermione confirmed. "Avery is Najwa's father."

Draco sat back, reeling from the shock of new information. He never did understand fully why Avery had gone to the Middle East after the fall of Voldermort. Now it made sense.

"After the first wizarding war, many thought Avery had died. However he had simply gone underground. Europe wasn't safe for a man who was 'Wanted: Pressumed Dead or Evading Capture.' He surfaced in Iraq where he settled with a Pureblood witch and had a family. He originally expected to live out his days in seclusion. That all changed after the return of Voldermort, who used the Dark Mark to summon his followers to the graveyard. Much like your own father, he now had a family that he put on the line out of fear mixed with a lust for power. When Harry defeated Voldermort this made him want to seek revenge. So he went back to the Middle East, where a political vacuum could be manipulated to recruit dark wizards. We always assumed he would make his way back to Europe but as Iraq started rebuilding, he went underground again. Najwa hasn't seen him in 2 years. I went back to the Green Zone and then my unit was shut down in December. Harry brought me home. I could have gone back to my research cover in the Middle East but I was ready by then to come home" she finished.

Draco couldn't believe what he had been told. Neither spoke.

"I just always assumed you were in the Baghdad Library" Draco finally said, chuckling, trying to defuse the atmosphere with humour.

"Yes well, once a bookworm, always a bookworm" she smiled "and yes, I did spend a lot of time in there, helping them to conserve what remained after the upheaval. It provided a cover for my research assignment so I was able to find out about Persian Dark Arts" she finished.

"No wonder you can insult me in Farsi then" he laughed, coming to her and planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Yea, you kinda have to know how to deal with the men when you are alone like that" she muttered.

He pulled her up from her chair, bringing her into a tight embrace, sensing there was more to that statement than his heart could bear to know. She pulled him down for a kiss, opening her mouth to let his tongue caress hers, and moaned as he deepened the kiss.

She broke away and he growled, his eyes hazy with lust. Hermione smiled as she sat back down.

"Later" she told him, picking up her quill.

Draco dropped a kiss on her shoulder as she resumed her work.

.

Her concentration was broken by the sound of screams coming from the rooftop. Grabbing their wands, their training switching their minds into gear, they raced to the terraced rooftop. Draco cautiously stepped out, holding Hermione back as he scanned the rooftop. His face visibly paled at the sight before him and he pocketed his wand, releasing Hermione and motioning for her to do the same.

A dark haired witch stood rooted to the spot in shock and fear in the middle of the terrace. Six feet in front of her lay the body of a woman, her fresh blood pooling over the tiles and glistening in the afternoon sun.

Hermione stepped forward as Draco cast a patronus to summon the aurors. She sat the woman down on one of the loungers, shielding her from the body as she attempted to comfort her.

Suddenly a MLE technician apparated to the terrace and set up wards to keep the muggles away. He was followed by other MLE technicians, the medical examiner who set about securing the crime scene and a mediwitch who apparated the poor witch who had discovered the body to St Camillus', the Italian version of St Mungo's, to treat her shock. Draco and the Trace specialist worked together to check for Dark Magic and search the area for the killer. Hermione made her way over to the body, seeing the letter dropped on her torso. She waited while technicians photographed the crime scene and then reached down with her gloved hand to pick up the parchment. Draco returned, out of breath having found no Trace to follow the killer and found Hermione rigid, face ashen, staring at the letter she held in her hand.

His face displaying openly the concern he felt for his witch, he approached her to give her comfort and ascertain the source of her anxiety.

He stared at the unfamiliar script and looked to Hermione for an explanation.

"It's the Persian language Farsi" she explained, tears welling in her eyes.

He waited while she choked back a sob for the translation

"It says, 'You're next, Mudblood'"

.

* * *

**A/N:** Shorjh or Al-Shorjh (Arabic,الشورجة) is a marketplace in Baghdad, Iraq. Located near Bab Al Sharqi market, Shorjh is Baghdad's largest and oldest market. The name Shorja comes from Persian شورچاه Shurchah and means "salty well". This market place is a landmark established long ago by Iranian merchants.

The Green Zone (Arabic: المنطقة الخضراء, al-minṭaqah al-ḫaḍrā') is the most common name for the International Zone of Baghdad. It is a 10-square-kilometer (3.9 sq mi) area in the Karkh district of central Baghdad, Iraq, that was the governmental center of the Coalition Provisional Authority and remains the center of the international presence in the city. Its official name beginning under the Iraqi Interim Government is the International Zone, though Green Zone remains the most commonly used term. The contrasting Red Zone refers to parts of Baghdad immediately outside the perimeter, but was also loosely applied to all unsecured areas outside the off-site military posts. Both terms originated as military designations.

Nawja is a Persian girls name meaning Passionate, Secret, Whisper. I chose if for the meaning secret, as she is Avery's secret daughter.

St. Camillus de Lellis was born at Bocchianico, Italy. He fought for the Venetians against the Turks. He devoted himself to caring for the sick, and became director of St. Giacomo Hospital in Rome. He was canonized in 1746 and was declared patron of the sick, with St. John of God, by Pope Leo XIII, and patron of nurses and nursing groups by Pope Pius XI. His feast day is July 18th.


	32. Chapter 32

He paced the length of the lounge, while Hermione sat with a cup of tea in her hands, her features fixed resolutely.

"I already told Draco, I am not going back to London. The killer is here and we need to catch him" she stated cooly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I completely agree with Draco. You should come back to London. We can protect you better there than we can out here" he replied, sitting down opposite her.

"Harry, I don't need protecting. I might spend more time in research than out in the field, but I am still a trained auror. And you said yourself, Draco is your best Hit Wizard. I am just as safe here as in London" she said, as if that was the final word on the matter.

Draco came back into the room and stalked over to the drinks cabinet where he poured himself a large muggle whiskey.

"I told you, she's being her usual stubborn self" he ground out, preferring to show the anger he felt rather than his fear.

He slammed the bottle down on the sideboard and turned to face Harry, who had taken off his glasses and sat massaging his forehead.

"Don't speak about me as if I am not in the room" Hermione complained, glaring at Draco.

They had fought about it most of the later part of the afternoon and in the end she had apparated to the Italian Ministry to make an international floo call to her best friend, while Draco hexed his suite into oblivion. Harry had flood to the Ministry immediately and now sat in Hermione's hotel room, acting as mediator between the couple.

"How about a compromise then" suggested Harry, putting his glasses back on and leaning back. Draco and Hermione both looked at him.

"I spoke with Blaise before I left Ministry. Go to his Villa. It's almost as old as Malfoy Manor so it has strong familial wards. I know a body was found on the lawns there, but no one should be able to get into the house. We can always come and set up extra wards for the grounds."

Draco and Hermione looked at each other, weighing up the possibility.

"If you insist on staying here, that's certainly what I would prefer" Draco told her, putting his now empty glass down.

Hermione got up and walked over to him, stepped on her tip toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Ok" she told him, then turned to Harry "We will go to the Villa."

Draco pulled her to him possessively. Harry averted his gaze. Neither had actually intimated directly to him the nature of their relationship, but the level of concern Harry had sensed in his former rival was apparent and more than one usually felt for a partner in an investigation.

Clearly Draco Malfoy had fallen in love with his best friend.


	33. Chapter 33

The warm glow of the flames from the fireplace cast shadows that danced like lovers on the wall of their room. Hermione watched the shapes move as she lay on her side, her back pressed into Draco who rested his chin on her neck, occasionally peppering kisses across her nape and shoulder. She stroked his arm lightly, tracing little patterns with her fingertips. They had arrived at the Villa shortly after Harry flood back to London and Binny had shown them to the luxury ensuite room that Blaise had asked her to prepare for them. Exhausted from the emotionally charged afternoon, they had climbed into bed and lay in the darkness, neither saying a word. For her part, Hermione was still quietly annoyed that he had tried to force her to go home and for his, he didn't want her to know just how frightened he was that something would happen to her. Now possible targets, the case had been moved over to Harry's counterpart at the Italian Ministry and they had been told to stand down from the investigation as they were effectively in protective custody. Neither was happy about this, least of all Hermione who considered they had a better chance than anyone else of catching this killer.

_"I know what you are like"_ Harry had said before he left " _Leave it to them. You have worked yourselves into the ground over this but now its time to take a step back. Take a break and have a rest. Let him take care of you, Hermione" he had told her, looking her square in the eye._

_"I'm not some 'Damsel in Distress' Harry"_ Hermione had spat, angered by his insinuation.

_"No, you're not. But one look at that man tells anyone how he feels about you, and he isn't Ron"_ he told her emphatically.

Hermione had turned away, knowing what he meant. Draco was able to protect her without holding her back and breaking her spirit. He would hold her through her nightmares, not leave her broken and traumatised in the after effects of their destruction. She knew that literally and figuratively. Even when she had been at her worst, he had never walked away from her.

Draco turned her onto her back and stroked the curls that fell across her forehead away. She smiled up at him and his eyes grew serious.

"I know you, Hermione Granger. You are fierce and independent. But I also know this killer is a psycopath. I want you to be safe" he paused, unsure if he could tell her the depth of the emotion he felt. It had dawned on him today when he sat, broken and crying into his hands, shards of glass and splintered wood surrounding him, waiting for Hermione to return to her suite with Harry. He was in love with her. He looked into her warm hazel orbs and knew he couldnt tell her yet. He might have helped her tear down her own walls brick by brick but he still had some of his own.

She lifted her hand to his cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning into the gesture"

"I know, sweetheart" she told him, "and _I know_."

He brought his lips to her forehead, pressing a kiss in a gesture of comfort before lust took hold. She leaned up to capture his lip with hers as he peppered feather light kisses across her temple and cheek. He pushed her top up, his tongue flicking her nipple as he cupped her breast. Tugging at his boxers with her foot, her hands gripped his shoulders as she whimpered under his caresses. They paused to discard clothing before crashing their lips together as he pulled her so she was sitting upright, her back pressed into the headboard, their arms wrapped around each other. She gasped as he sucked and nipped, eager to taste every inch of her skin. Pressing her hands to his shoulders, she lightly pushed him back, indicating her intention. He lay back as she straddled her hips, his hand going to her sex, moaning as he felt her readiness. Slowly she pressed herself down onto him, gasping as he filled her up, and he watched as she touched herself, bringing herself to release as she rocked her hips back and forth. He marvelled at the erotic sight and it wasn't long before he was gripping her waist, gasping out her name. Casting a quick scourgify, they settled into each other's arms before drifting into a deep sleep, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

.

Coming down the stairs hand in hand, they were greeted by Binny, who stood wringing her hands impatiently.

"Master Blaise and the Misses Pansy and Mister Ron are breakfasting on the terrace and they is telling me you should be joining them when you is coming down" she informed them, motioning for them to follow her outside.

"Thank you, Binny" Hermione told the elf with a kind pat to her head.

Outside on the terrace, Ron was stuffing his face much like he always had every time he saw a buffet when he and Hermione had been travelling and the sight was reminiscent of many mornings at Hogwarts. Pansy sat reading ' _1000 Tips for Expectant Witches',_ sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose to shield the glare of early morning sun as she read her book. Hermione thought it was an odd sight, to see someone who had taunted her for being a bookworm with her own nose ironically stuck in a book. Blaise sat at the head of the table, reading that day's edition of _Il profeta_ , the Italian edition of The Prophet.

He peered over the top of the paper smirking as Hermione and Draco sat down, helping themselves to orange juice, coffee and a variety of breakfast foods.

"Morning" he greeted his newest house guests "sleep well?" he casually inquired, going back to the article about the 'Gastro-Crusade' in Florence, something the Goblins hoped to capitalise from.

"Yes thank you, Blaise" Hermione answered politely, smiling. "You?"

"No" he chuckled, amused "the couple next door kept me awake" he replied, quirking his eyebrow at her "My room is next to yours. I'd have thought the 'Brightest Witch of Our Age' would know how to cast a Silencio" he said, folding his paper and pouring himself a coffee. He caught her mortified expression out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh my god" she muttered.

Ron's eyes widened as he caught on. He nearly choked on his breakfast.

* * *

**A/N:** The story that Blaise is reading in the prophet is an actual news item that featured in The Telegraph with the headline: "Florence cracks down on rising number of corner shops in bid to preserve cultural identity."


	34. Chapter 34

Striding down the paved streets of Cannaregio they made the unlikeliest of trio's. Draco was on his way to the Ministry to hand over his and Hermione's case files, Blaise tagging along to file his own paperwork for works he wanted to carry out on his estate. Ron had come along on a mission for Pansy.

"If I go back without one she will kill me" Ron cried, exasperated.

Blaise chuckled "I don't know what to tell you Ron" he said "The Italians don't do anything like that" he laughed at Pansy's latest craving-driven request.

"I don't get what they have against it, you get them everywhere in England" he complained, frustrated at his inabilty to find what she wanted. He had endured her whinning about it all night and he had left with Draco and Blaise promising to find what she craved.

"Seriously mate" Blaise told him as they arrived at the Ministry buildings "They don't put pineapple on pizzas in Italy."

Ron knew he was a marked man. He almost didn't want to go home and face her wrath.

.

Apparating back to the estate, the three immediately sensed there was something wrong. Drawing wands, they surveyed the property as they made their way to the front door. The door had been blasted open with a Bombarda Maxima, splintering it into several pieces. Draco cast a Lumos and carefully pushed the pieces out the way, stepping over the threshold. A woman screamed and his blood ran cold. The three dashed towards the sound, breaking the wards barring them from entering the drawing room. Pansy was lashed with an Incarcerous to a chair, sobbing hysterically. Blaise and Ron set about freeing her as she whimpered.

"It's Avery! Avery has her!" she cried, throwing her now free arms around Ron's neck.

"Where?" Draco asked her, frantic with worry.

"He took her out to the terrace, beyond that I don't know Draco!" she sobbed, clutching at Ron.

"Stay with her Weasley, I will go and find Hermione. Get Harry here Blaise" Draco told them as he made his way to the rear of the property.

Out on the terrace, Hermione was silenced and bound, Avery holding his wand to her throat.  
"Well well, what do we have here" he taunted "The prodigal son. How far you and your kin fell from grace" he drawled.

"Let her go, Avery" Draco commanded.

"I think not, this little Mudblood bitch is going to get what is coming to her and then I am going to make it so you forget she even existed. They are scum, Draco, and we need to wipe their existence from the world completely. Voldermort had the right idea, it was only his methods that were flawed" he lectured, sneering at Draco.

Draco took a step forward.

"Stay back or I will just cast the Avada" he spat.

"If you think I am going to let you hurt her, you are sorely mistaken" he told Avery emphatically.

"Ah yes, I am well aware that you have fallen for the little bitch" he spat "you disgust me as much as she did, and your father was right, you are weak"

Draco's rage boiled over.

"Expel…."

"CRUCIO" Avery yelled, watching as Draco crumpled to the ground, writhing in agony. Hermione's tears fell silently down her face as she looked on helpless. She knew the trauma all too well.

"CRUCIO" Avery yelled a second time, holding the curse.

Hermione silently whimpered.

Avery turned to her "Don't worry, Mudblood, we will get to you in a minute" he sneered.

Draco seized his opportunity of Avery's break in his concentration and despite the pain he felt, launched himself bodily at Avery, enraged.

They tumbled down the stone steps and Draco punched Avery square on the jaw, momentarily stunning him. He rushed to Hermione, freeing her and casting the counter-spell to Avery's silencio.

"CRUCIO" Avery yelled, reaching the top of the steps. Draco fell to the ground screaming as the agony ripped apart at him.

Hermione screamed scrambling for the wand Draco had dropped.

Two bolts of light lit up the sky.

"SECTUMSEMPRA"

"AVADA KEDAVRA"

.

Misty visions moved about in front of his eyes as he slipped in and out of consciousness. He had felt this pain before. Past and present blurred into one as his mind played out flashbacks. Dark hair and green eyes.

"Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur" the familiar voice muttered as he slipped into unconsciousness.

.

An angelic vision made him wonder if this was heaven. Cool hands soft against his skin, tingling and hissing.

.

His eyes fluttered open. Hermione was sat in a chair by the bed. He groaned and she came to him, eyes watery, kissing him fully.

"I was so scared" she told him, before calling for the others.

.

Draco turned to look at Harry who was now sat in the chair that Hermione had occupied earlier. He groaned.

"Why is it always Sectumsempra?" he groaned before chuckling.

"Yea, sorry about that mate" Harry muttered, running his hand through his hair.

"What happened?" he asked, staring at the ceiling.

"Blaise and I arrived just in time. Avery cast the Sectumsempra at Hermione, but you shielded her taking the brunt of the curse. It only caught her arm. Blaise killed Avery. It was life or death so the Ministry aren't pursuing it, here or back home. You were out of it for two days"

"Who cast the counter curse?" Draco asked with uncertainty, knowing he had hallucinated Snape as his memories blurred with reality.

"I did" Harry replied. "Hermione was the one who healed you with the murtlap essance and dittany. She never left your side" he nodded to where she was lying on the bed next to him.

"It's over" Harry told them, relieved.


	35. Chapter 35

**17th November 2005**

**Orto Di Venezia, Italy.**

A scream rippled through the night-time silence, reverberating around the walls of the Villa. Hermione opened her eyes and grabbed her wand from the nightstand, lighting the room. She gently nudged Draco who had put his head under one of the pillows.

"What?" came his muffled reply.

Hermione smiled. "I think you will find it's time" she chuckled, lifting the pillow off his head.

"So? Go tell Ron then" he scowled, not happy about the prospect of having to get up.

"I would think he already knows" she laughed as Draco put the pillow back over his head "Come and give your friends some moral support" she said, taking the pillow and chucking it to the foot of the bed.

"Friend. Singular. Weasley is YOUR friend" he told her, turning and scowling at the clock "Fuck sake Hermione, it's quarter past four! Neither of them are my friends at this time of night!" he gruffed. Hermione stood with her hands on her hips. He knew this wasn't an argument he was going to win. He glared at her anyway.

"Fine" he said finally, resigning himself to the fact that in their relationship, she wore the trousers, not him.

.

"I swear to fucking Salazaar, if you come near me again, I will hex your fucking balls off!" Pansy's shrill cry could be heard down the hall. Hermione opened the door and poked her head in.

"Want some help?" she asked her.

"Yes" Pansy ground out, clutching her swollen stomach as she braced herself through another contraction. "Get Draco and tell him to do something with Ronald" she said once the pain started to decrease.

Draco stepped in a grin on his face.

"Don't get any ideas" Hermione told him, giving him a look that told him she meant business.

"Spoilt sport" he whispered, pressing a kiss on her temple before leaving the bedroom with a shell shocked Ron behind him.

Hermione went into the ensuite bathroom and dampened a flannel before helping Pansy to find a comfortable position. After several tries, she found leaning over the back of the couch the most beneficial. Hermione wiped Pansy's brow as a grin formed on the labouring woman's face.

"Who would have thought eh?" she said, smiling at the woman with whom she had a tentative friendship.

"I know" said Hermione as she allowed Pansy to clutch her hand through the next contraction.

"I'm scared" she whispered once the pain ebbed away.

Hermione frowned at her. "Why?"

"I don't know if I am cut out for this" she whispered.

Hermione knew what she meant. "You will be fine" she told her "just look how far you have come. Look how far we have all come" she continued emphatically. "Besides, Ron comes from a big family so you will always have support" she finished.

"They are in England" Pansy mumbled, gritting her teeth as the next contraction took hold.

"Well you have a family here too now" Hermione told her, meaning it.

Pansy smiled.

* * *

"What do you want?" she spat, in no mood for interruptions.

"I just wanted to check you were ok. Do you need anything?" Ron asked, looking unsure of himself.

"I will be fine once I have finished birthing your child, Weasley" she cried, another contraction building. She screamed through the pain as Hermione whispered words of encouragement and comfort. Ron grimaced, not liking the image before him one bit. He hated seeing his fiancée in pain. He turned to leave.

"Wait! Where the fuck are you going?" she cried.

He paused, holding the door open.

"I thought you wanted me to go" he said, staring at her bewildered.

"You asked me if I needed anything!" She cried. She paused, a frown forming on her face.

"Get me your mother" she mumbled. Hermione stopped wiping her forehead, looking at her confused.

"What?" asked Ron, looking at her in disbelief.

"I SAID GET ME YOUR MOTHER!" she yelled, rolling onto her side and drawing her leg up.

He looked at Hermione, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because I need a mother, and I don't have one, so get me yours" she said, closing her eyes, holding back tears.

* * *

"There's a girl" Molly soothed, wiping her sweat covered brow "won't be long now dear"

* * *

"Seriously" George chuckled "I have honestly never seen anyone eat so much when their partner is in labour!" watching Ron wolf down another chicken drumstick.

"I eat when I am stressed" Ron told him, shrugging his shoulder.

"You must be stressed all the time" snorted Draco, pouring himself another Firewhiskey.

* * *

A scream punctuated the late evening sky. The men sat on the terrace looking up to the window above where the scream had originated from. Each of them had concern written across their face. No one said a word. Suddenly a baby's cry was heard and Ron dropped his fork, rushing to his bedroom.

The men all looked at each other and smiled, each raising their glass.

"Another Weasley" Arthur toasted as they all clinked their glasses.

* * *

"Pansy's asking for you" said Hermione, appearing at the doorway to the terrace. Everyone turned round. She looked at Draco and smiled. He stood and followed his witch up to where Pansy was in bed, holding her son proudly. Ron had his arm draped round her shoulder.

Looking up as the couple entered the room she smiled.

"If it's alright with the two of you, we would like to introduce you to your Godson, Cosimo Giovanni Weasley" she smiled.

* * *

**17th November 2007**

**Orto Di Venezia, Italy**

"Can you all raise your glasses please, I'd first of all like to wish our Godson Cosimo a Happy 2nd Birthday. We love you." Hermione smiled at the auburn haired infant. "And secondly!" She continued, turning to Draco beaming at him "Congratuations to my husband, 100 cases solved! I am so proud of you." She leant in and kissed Draco soundly. "Cosimo and Draco" She cried.

"Cosimo and Draco" Their 3 dinning companions chorused.

"Yea, I _definitely_ didn't think you would make it to 100 cases"

"Shut up Zabini!"

.

Fin

* * *

**A/N:** When I first wrote Welcome to Venice" it was supposed to be a short drabble based on a joke. I then got this idea to write M for Murder it again was only going to be a little career based ficlet. But it soon grew into something more when I had the idea to link it in to Afternoon Tea at Malfoy Manor. At this point I thought it might end up being a short 10 chapter fic or so, but then one afternoon I thought what if I tied it into Welcome to Venice. I ran the idea by my fabulous girls who admin Dramione FanFiction Forum on Facebook and they thought it was a good idea and to run with it. So I did. I then had to work out a believable way to hold off them getting together until they get to Venice. Thats when I wrote R for Ronald, to explain the reasons behind Hermione's behaviour. I wanted to work through a Hermione struggling with PTSD and the contrast between the two men in her life and how they deal with the aftereffects of her trauma. Because the reality is no one would go through the experiences that Hermione did during the war unscathed. Thats when this started to take on a life of its own. I had the vague notion that the main story would be about them getting together, rather than the mystery itself but the more I wrote, the more I got hooked on the mystery plot and thats when I wrote D for Draco, partly to lay some foundations for Draco's character, and partly to lay foundations for the climax (no pun intended) of the story. I didnt have a fixed idea who the killer was until that point. I also knew how the final showdown would go but I went back and forth over who would be the one to cast the Avada, even speculating on what circumstances would have to occur for Hermione to be the one to cast it- would her love for Draco be enough? Possibly, but possibly not. As I started to write the final chapters, I decided instead of sticking to my plan to take them back to London, to keep them in Venice and as I wrote, it became obvious who would cast the Avada. Blaise has a fraternal bond with Draco and I believe his character wouldn't think twice about casting it if he witnessed someone he cared about getting hurt. I knew I wanted to write an epilogue and by the time I came to write it, I felt it was obvious it should focus on Pansy.

As it stands, I don't plan to write a multi-chapter sequel, but who knows. I have really enjoyed writing this series and I think it would be fun to keep this little universe I have created going in some way. Thanks again to my fabulous friends Torigingerfox and xxDustNight88. I know they both say this is good because of my ideas and the research I did to make sure it was something realistic, but without them to bounce ideas around and say hey, so this is what im thinking, or do you think this would work, it might...no it probably would! have turned out not even half as good as they tell me it is. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this, and especially if you took the time to review- I read them all! :)


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